Tendo Saotome Anything Goes
by Kirinin
Summary: When Ranma arrives in Nerima, he's had enough of the road, with no friends, no roots, no life. When he finds a friend in Akane, he decides to deceive the rest of the Tendos. After all, the ends justify the means. Right? COMPLETE
1. The Redhead and the Dog

            "Put me _down!_"

            A young girl was being carried down the street on the back of a hulk of a man.  "We'll be there soon enough," he soothed.  "Quit struggling."

Though that did not comfort the watching Nerimans any, indubitably you yourself, dear reader, are familiar with this _scene_: an irate, beautiful redhead beating on an old man's shoulder, speaking to her father in a quite uncharitable tone and using the least respect possible without calling him names.

            "Stupid old man!"

            Ah—and there we go.  You could sing this song in your sleep, could you not?

            Boom.  "Suck on _that_, old man!"

            Yes, another day, another oft-repeated scene.  

            "Come on Joi[1]," the redhead snapped angrily, and a smallish dog, coming up to her knee at the shoulders, scurried after her.

            This will not be a comedy.  I have decreed it.  Needless to say, I have been wrong before.

CHAPTER ONE: The Redhead and the Dog

            Joi barked angrily as the old man reclaimed the redheaded girl, and the three entered the Tendo home.  A particularly successful nip from the small animal's jaws and Ranma twisted free, breasts bouncing unmistakably as she landed.  "Excuse me!" she called out, bowing before the four stunned figures ahead of her.

            Joi now barked at the new people enthusiastically before scurrying behind Ranma—before realizing that put him in front of Genma.  He quickly found a convenient corner and viewed what he was certain was impending doom with watchful eyes.

            Three girls and an elder man who had to be their father blinked almost simultaneously.

            "Er… excuse me for intruding in your home?" Ranma attempted formally.  

            "Ranma?" the man remarked intelligently.

            The redhead nodded.  "Yeesss…"

            He peered behind her.  "But Genma, you said you had a son!"

            "I said I had _Ranma_," Genma corrected dryly, "who's hardly a man, as you can see…"

            "You're just repaying me for that black eye, you big jerk!" Ranma exclaimed angrily.

            Joi bristled and barked.  The youngest Tendo girl smiled and knelt carefully on the floor.  He walked up to her, tail wagging, and she patted him on the head.  "Hi," she said softly.  "I'm Akane.  Want to be friends?"

            Joi went into a frenzy of tail-wagging.

            "Well.  Huh, he likes you," Ranma said, smiling a little bit.  "He usually hates new people, doesn't he?"

            The small dog moved to the middle sister and sniffed her disinterestedly, moving on to the eldest.  His tail wagged a bit more.

            People watched dogs the same way they watched small children, as if they existed for nothing more than to do something adorable.  Everyone in the room was paying attention to Joi.

            "I'll be," Ranma continued, smiling openly now.  "He usually just hides behind me!  And he hates pops."  The redhead frowned a moment in confusion, then smiled even wider as she watched Akane scratch the area behind Joi's ears.

            "Perhaps you and Akane can spar while Saotome-san and I talk some things over," Soun said loudly.

            Genma nodded.  "That would be a wonderful idea, Tendo."

"We'll see how our girls measure up, eh?"  They laughed companionably.

            The youngest Tendo abruptly lost interest in Joi, who whined and butted her hand with his nose.  "I really don't think—" she began hesitantly.

            "Nonsense, Akane," Mr. Tendo continued in that same jocular tone of voice that nonetheless broached no argument.  "There's nothing wrong with a little sparring session, is there?"

            Akane frowned, but rose, grabbing Ranma by the wrist.  "Come on," she said roughly.

            Ranma was impressed in spite of herself.  The dojo was beautiful, immaculately kept and shining.  A simple message was hung on the wall: 'The Fundamentals'.  A large pile of dust stood in one of the corners, rather obviously from a recent brick-breaking, but other that that, the place was terribly well-kept.  For a moment, Ranma felt a shiver run through her as though she was an unwelcome stranger on some kind of hallowed ground.

            The redhead shook that off deliberately.  She was the best martial artist there ever was—and would not be intimidated by the obviously rarely-used dojo of a city girl.  Still, she refused to fight women, or even spar with them.  Unless, of course, on those all-too-rare occasions when they were out to kill her.

            "I don't fight—" she began hesitantly, but Akane broke in before she could finish.

            "You don't either?  Thank goodness!"

            Ranma blinked as Joi trotted into the dojo.  It was unlikely he was going to let Ranma out of his sight in a new place for long.  "Huh?" the redhead managed.  "You—I mean—"

            Akane hung her head in something like shame, and for the first time, Ranma let herself take in how pretty she was.  "It's… I don't like to fight at all," Akane said softly.  "I'm glad you don't want to, either."

            Not _want_ to?  That was something of an alien concept.  Why… everybody practiced, didn't they?  There were just degrees of skill.

            Akane appeared to notice her consternation.  "Well… I mean, I used to, obviously."  She beheld the dojo with something like disgust.  "Just not anymore.  It makes Daddy so discouraged, so I try to make like I still fight…"

            Another foreign concept.  "You… you're doing this 'cause of your dad?"

            Akane nodded.  "So… would you really mind if you just said we had a pretty good fight?"

            Ranma considered this, scratching her head.  Somehow it seemed sort of dishonorable or something.

            "I'll say you won," the dark-haired girl tacked on.

            "It was a draw."  Ranma didn't know she was going to say it until it was already hanging in the air.  Maybe something in the dark-eyed girl's expression made her do it—the Tendo girl did look pretty harried.  Joi nuzzled her with his nose, sensing her distress, and she patted him absently.  "Since neither of us fought, it was a draw."

            Akane's expression lit up.  "Thanks a lot," she said.  "You're really cool."  Then she blushed, as though she thought she had seemed a bit too enthusiastic.

            Ranma was blushing, too.  No one had ever directed an admiring gaze to her before.  Akane was really grateful.  "But why don't you wanna?  Are you hurt?"  She still couldn't quite seem to understand the other girl's position.

            The dark-haired girl winced.  "Uhm…"

            There was a long pause in which Ranma wished she hadn't said a word with every passing second.  She hadn't known that being with somebody could be this awkward.  Her only experiences with other beings had mostly been with Joi, who protected her as best as his cowardly nature would allow, and Genma, whose sole wish seemed to be to meld his son into a top-notch martial artist—unless you counted his seemingly insatiable desire for food and drink.[2]  In neither experience was there room for much of this kind of delicate conversation.  Ranma was searching for another topic of conversation other than martial arts—and coming up alarmingly blank—when Akane finally responded.

            "I hurt someone else.  Nobody thinks it's a big deal but me.  It was this guy I go to school with," she continued, her hands patting Joi still, beginning to go a bit more quickly from nervousness.  "He was always bugging me about dates and stuff."

            Ranma blinked.  "Bugging you?"

            Akane seemed to realize she had an audience all over again.  "I didn't like him, much.  He was kind of conceited, real full of himself.  He made me very angry, always assuming I wanted him; he even got a lot of other guys interested in me, the way he talked."  She shivered and a look of revulsion crossed her pretty features.  "I'd always been really good at martial arts," she added sadly, as though this was a truly terrible thing.  "Took to it kind of naturally.  I'll show you some trophies later."  She said this with the air of somebody announcing they were going to visit the grave of a loved one.  "This one time he just plain annoyed me too much.  He tried to grab me."  Akane closed her eyes, as if she were forcing herself to see it all over again.  "I broke his arm and his leg."

            The redhead sighed, still not quite understanding.  Akane had overestimated her opponent, that was all.  Ranma had done it before.

            The other girl's eyes shimmered, though she didn't let any tears drop.  "The sound," she announced, as though that said it all, "of bone _cracking_.  It's something else, you know?  After that, I didn't really have the same taste for it anymore, martial arts."  She wound down, her breathing slightly heavier than normal, like a panicked animal's.  Joi was being patient with her, even though she had a hand tightening on his fur in what had to be a painful way.  Akane's eyes met hers.  "You ever hurt someone really bad?"

            Ranma considered.  Oddly, she had not.  "I've been hurt bad," she replied.

            Akane shook her head, then shrugged.  "Anyway, Nabiki—that's my middle sister—she just thinks old Kuno got what he deserved.  And Kasumi, my other sister, just said it wasn't very ladylike to fight in school."  She snorted, to show what she thought of _that_.  "Daddy was… proud.  Nobody was upset but me, and if I try to show it, they just all get impatient.  It almost feels like I'm nothing but a means to an end—just a way to carry on the Tendo School."

            It all snapped into place in Ranma's brain almost audibly, like gears shifting in a lock.  "I know what you mean," she said.  At times, Ranma had wondered whether her father would have cared if she were any different, provided she could still fight.  The answer was somewhat scary, especially when Ranma considered the Catfist.  Ranma could have died, or gone permanently insane; but Genma was ready to risk him on the altar of the martial arts he seemed to love more than his own flesh and blood.  The redhead felt a deep pang and hung her head.

            "You don't want to fight, either, then," Akane confirmed.

            "I just don't fight…" she fumbled.  _Girls,_ she thought.  "…unless it's serious."

            "Well, yeah," Akane replied.  "If my family was in danger, I'd fight 'til the end."  Her eyes sparked briefly.  "But for _fun_—or to show some guy you're bigger and stronger—it's just bullying.  And that's weak.[3]"

            The redhead considered this, trying to incorporate yet another almost dizzying piece of thought into her framework.  "I guess…"

            Akane waved her hands in a friendly manner.  "Oh—I don't want to make you feel like you have to agree!  I'm just saying what I think… but maybe I do that a bit too much sometimes.  I hope I haven't bored you or anything…"

            Ranma shook her head quickly.  "No way!"  She considered, then added a smile.  "You're cool, too, Akane.  Even if we think different on some things."

            The other girl smiled widely, pleased.  "Do you want to be friends?" she inquired.

            Ranma gulped at Akane's open, disarming expression, and smiled.  "Uh… it's been awhile since I've had one… I've been on the road… and I don't know how to…"

            Akane looked mildly surprised.

            "And friends are supposed to tell each other… everything.  Right?"

            The youngest Tendo paused.  "Well, most stuff anyway," she replied.  "But if you wanna wait and tell me later, or think about it," she began.

            "No," Ranma cut in abruptly.  "I, ah, don't wanna make you mad."

            Akane's eyes shimmered.

            "No!  I don't mean 'cause of what you said, I just mean I don't wanna make you upset… see?  I'm terrible at this!"

            Akane shook her head.  "Maybe Nabiki's right—I'm too sensitive."  She sniffed.  "Well, we girls have to stick together, you know—so out with it."

            "Eh heh… well, it's kinda about that…"

            "Tomboys?  Emotions?"

            "Girls."

            Akane nodded.  "Yeessss?" she drawled.

            "I'm not one."

            Akane blinked at Ranma, double-checked the redhead's chest to be absolutely certain, and made her way back to Ranma's blue eyes.  The entire time, her bland expression did not alter.

            Then she began to laugh hysterically.[4]

            "Hey—hey!" Ranma protested while the other girl giggled helplessly. "I'm serious!"

            Akane's chortles died down and an air of seriousness settled over her almost abruptly.  "Listen, Ranma, I know how you feel there, too… but we're martial artists, not _guys_—and just because we can fight well doesn't mean that we're any less female.  Plenty of guys have characteristics that are considered traditionally female, and it goes the opposite way, too…"

            But Ranma was shaking her head, taken by the incongruity and absurdity of the situation.  She'd never thought she would ever be trying to have to convince anyone she was male, and she didn't think anyone would have as small a chance of success as she did just now.  She knew she could get up and grab some hot water from the kitchen and watch Akane's indulgent smile slip right off of her features, but something in that scenario disturbed the redhead.  It would mean getting up, for one thing, and she found herself awfully comfortable sitting cross-legged on the dojo floor with Akane, in more ways than one.  "That's not what I mean," she replied.

            "Then what _do_ you mean?" Akane demanded.

            The redhead took a deep breath.  "I mean I'm a guy.  Honestly."

            "Okay, so you're honestly a guy.  Want to get married after all?"

            She was _humoring _her!  A brief aura flared around Ranma's female form before she pulled it under her control.  "I'm being _serious_!" she exclaimed.  "And you're making fun of me!"

            "Okay, okay; I'm sorry," Akane replied nervously.  "I believe you."

            They blinked at one another for a moment.  For some reason, Ranma felt her lips twitching into a smile, but maybe that was because Akane was smiling, too.  Joi laid his head down on his paws, looking up benignly at the two of them.  And then they were grinning, and then they were laughing almost uncontrollably, hanging onto one another.  "Okay… so it _sounds_ like I'm nuts," Ranma finally wheezed.  "But I swear…"

            "I know, I know.  And I said that I believe you.  So you're a guy."

            And she did.  Ranma viewed her.  She was willing to take Ranma on faith.  Her eyes were not condescending, even though they were slightly doubtful.  If Ranma wanted, Akane would indubitably call her 'he'.  She had no idea what to say.  "Th-thank you."

            "This is enough time for at least three sparring matches," Akane announced suddenly.  "Let's go back inside, okay?"

            Ranma nodded and stood.  "Three bouts.  You won the first one, I won the second one, and then we tied."

            "Thanks for telling me your secret," Akane said softly, slipping an arm around Ranma's shoulders in a half-hug.

            A dozen emotions warred in Ranma at once.  A long-suppressed part of her wanted to kiss the youngest Tendo girl, but that was buried so deep it hardly had a voice.  A surprisingly strong part of her wanted to lean into the embrace, however—and an almost equally intense need to push her away made itself felt as well.  A mind-numbing confusion was threatening to kick all the other emotions out on their asses; no one had touched Ranma in a friendly manner since Ucchan used to hold his hand way back when.  (He did not really remember the nice old lady who had originally eased him out of the cat-fist.)  

            "You're trembling—are you cold?" Akane inquired solicitously as they strode to the dojo door.

            Ranma nodded slightly, and Akane responded to the other girl's unspoken wish by drawing her closer.  Ranma's confusion escalated to the point where she actually wondered if she might pass out.

            Perhaps unfortunately, Ranma wasn't made that way.  Her brain continued to function quite actively, though it was becoming a bit hazy from endorphins.  At least she'd managed to stop shaking—how embarrassing!  If pop saw her like this—

            That put a bit of steel in her spine.  She couldn't think of a way to shrug Akane off without hurting her feelings, though, so the pair continued to walk to the house as they were, Ranma nearly blushing hard enough to set the taller girl's shirt ablaze.  The arm draped loosely over her shoulders began to feel like a red-hot brand; Ranma could not get away, and soon everybody would _see_…

            The pair slipped inside the house, and Akane removed her arm casually.  "Good fight," she added.

            "Yeah," Ranma added loudly.  "Uh, very good."

            "But who won?" Soun demanded.  Genma viewed the close proximity of the pair warily, although nobody else seemed to think it was odd.  Ranma carefully stepped a bit to the side.

            "It was a tie," Akane replied.  "Ranma, want some soda, or some water?  I'll bet you're thirsty after all of that."

            "Thirsty?  Yeah, er, real thirsty."  The redhead considered.  "Anything cold."

            Engrossed in their play-acting, neither girl noticed Genma's face turning an interesting shade of puce.  "WHAT?!" he exploded, startling Akane into dropping her can of soda all over the floor.   "YOU WERE BEATEN BY A GIRL?!"[5]

            Akane's gaze flickered to Ranma speculatively for a bare instant before it turned on Genma in a cold fury.  "I didn't beat him, we tied."  Her voice was deceptively soft, and her eyes were lethal.  Suddenly Ranma began to see how this girl might have gotten angry enough to break bones; watching the muscles cord in her right arm as she clenched her fists in anger, Ranma could also see that she could probably manage it casually.  For all of this, Ranma managed to miss Akane's pronoun.

            "Yeah pops, don't get all tied up in knots.  Akane is…"  Ranma coughed.  "…real good.  Amazing, really.  A natural.  I was…"  she coughed again.  "…Hard-pressed."

            "Hard-pressed!" Genma exclaimed again, quieter but more angry.  "You were hard-pressed after I took you through China, risking my life and your own to gain both experience and ancient technique… and you _lose_… to a _Tokyo GIRL_?!"

            Soun had a hand on his old friend's arm.  "Come now, Saotome.  Akane was always amazing at martial arts as a child; barely had to teach it to her.  Just because she and your girl are of a level—"

            "They wouldn't be of a level if Ranma had some hot water," Genma breathed.  "Kasumi—would you mind heating up some water for tea?"

            The eldest Tendo daughter moved into the kitchen.

            "Hot water?" Soun demanded.

            "Yes—I'm afraid the time has come to tell you of Ranma's true tragic story…"

            Ranma paled, suddenly feeling panic approaching.  "Pops, I don't think that—"

            "… when we were in the wilds of China, something terrible happened…"  He shook his head as though sadly disappointed at the hand that fate had dealt him.  "Perhaps you should call in Nabiki as well…"

            Ranma felt Akane slipping away from her.  She remembered the look of half-terror half-hatred that had crossed Akane's features when she talked about Kuno and the boys that liked her at school.  And her pops was going to make Akane look at _her_ like that.  She needed to stop it all, somehow.

            Ranma felt bone-weary.  She just wanted to stay in one place for more than a moment or two, maybe make some friends.  She remembered with tired fondness her very early childhood and then her full year of junior high, when she'd had time to make friends and go to school.  Those were her happiest times; she wanted a happy time again.  Akane liked her.  If Ranma could manage to keep her trust, then things would somehow be okay, she knew it.  "Pops, why don't you get Nabiki?" Ranma queried.  "I think I saw her go upstairs."

            Genma eyed his child warily, while Ranma returned the look coolly.  She tried to look like she wanted to get it all over with, like she wanted her curse out in the open.  Finally, the old martial artist lumbered away.

            Ranma was not the child of Saotome Genma for nothing.  Her mind had whipped up a relatively cunning and underhanded plan at a speed that startled even her.  She sniffled.  "Mister Tendo, I'm so sorry about this," she said sadly.

            "About… pardon?"

            Ranma winked at Akane out of the corner of her eye.  "It's just that I'm sorry I'm not a boy for you and your family.  It's just too bad we're all girls.  And poor pops…"

            Akane stared at him.  "What's wrong with your father?"

            "Well, you heard what he thinks of girls.  He raised me as a boy and now he…" she paused.  "Seems to think I _am_ one."  Ranma gulped, hoping she wasn't going to get herself murdered and wondering what was possessing her.  Akane's arm on her shoulder...  "I wouldn't be surprised if he still wants to marry me to one of your daughters."

            Soun gaped. 

            "I've been trying to get a chance to tell you about it, but—"

            A sound on the stairs halted all conversation abruptly as Genma returned with Nabiki in tow.

            "This had better be good," she said lazily.  "You're interrupting my stock purchases."

            Genma nodded, and launched into the tragic tale of Jhusenkyo, complete with the faulty guidebook and the way Ranma's curse was activated.  "Luckily I avoided becoming cursed," he finished quietly, melodramatic tears streaming down his face.

            For a long time, there was silence.  Ranma sat still, looking dejectedly at the pattern on the tabletop.  Then she sighed—a sigh that spoke volumes.

            "Well old friend," Soun said consolingly.  "That's really too bad."

            "I just want a normal life," Ranma said suddenly.  Her eyes blinked rapidly.  She hadn't realized how true this was until she'd said so.

            Soun's eyes filled with sympathy.  The poor girl had to deal with her deranged father, out on the road, him treating her like a boy the whole time… when she only wanted to go to parties and date boys like all normal girls did!

            Except his Akane-chan, of course.

            "You can stay here as long as you like," Soun announced paternally.

            "Father!" Kasumi exclaimed, surprised and pleased.

            "Daddy!" Nabiki added, surprised and less pleased.

            "Yatta!" Akane exclaimed, not surprised in the slightest.

            Ranma smirked.  _Ha!  Suck on that, you old schemer!  Now we won't be wandering the globe anymore…_

            "That's perfect," Genma replied, causing Ranma to blink in wary surprise.  "Kasumi, dear, would you mind getting that tea water?"

            "I'll get it," Akane said.  She went into the kitchen and emerged carrying the kettle with a potholder.  "Who wants tea?"

            With a sudden motion, Genma poured the tea water over his child's head.

            There was absolute silence.  Ranma closed her eyes awaiting the change… waiting for Akane's eyes to turn cold on him…

            Cold.  Ranma blinked.

            "What did you do that for?" Akane demanded.  "I wanted tea!  And now Ranma is _soaking wet!_"

            Ranma looked down.  Soaking wet… and female.  Akane put cold water in the teapot.  Akane put _cold water_ in the…

            Genma sputtered blankly for a moment, then passed out.

            "I need a bath," Ranma said wearily. 

            "Me too," Akane added calmly, as though old martial artists passed out on her floor every day of the week.  The pair disappeared up the stairs.

            "Poor Ranma!" Kasumi breathed.  Nabiki could only nod in wonderment.

            When they reached the top of the steps, Ranma realized she was going to have to say something _now_.  There was no way she could say she had some kind of pathological fear of hot water or anything at this point; besides which, Akane seemed to really believe her.  "You switched the water," Ranma said softly on the landing.

            Akane nodded.  "Why'd you lie to my folks?"

            Ranma almost flinched at the way she put it; Joi trotted up the stairs behind her, Ranma's ever-present shadow, and looked up at the redhead as though awaiting her answer.  "Let's talk about it inside, okay?"  The fact that Akane was ready to side with Ranma in tricking her own family either said a lot about Ranma or a lot about Akane's relationship with her family—Ranma wanted to know which.  Maybe it was both.

            Akane nodded, and they entered a modestly large bath.  Joi whined, but stayed behind, hating bathrooms ever since he'd been washed and shampooed in one by an enthusiastic younger Ranma.

            "First of all…"  Ranma turned the furo onto its hottest; it only took a couple of moments until the water was warm enough for Ranma to transform.  A splash later and a tall, dark-haired boy stood where a tiny buxom redhead had been.  Ranma kept his eyes closed for a moment as thoughts and impressions swirled around him confusingly.  Briefly, dizziness assaulted him—which had never happened before.

            When he opened his eyes, Akane was staring at him frankly, a blue aura flickering on and off around her tense figure.  Steam was slowly filling the room; and the sound of the still-running hot water filled Ranma's ears.  Suddenly he had the feeling she was going to hit him.

            Instead, she approached, examining him even more minutely.  Her blue aura flickered out entirely, and her gaze became frank and appraising.  Deft fingers moved Ranma's damp hair away from his eyes and she peered unabashedly into them.  "Gosh," she breathed.  "It really is you, after all!"[6]

            Ranma let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.  "Yeah," he replied.  He smiled tentatively.

            "Weird," Akane opined, poking at his chest, briefly, then drawing her finger away as though it had been stung.  "Where'd they go?"

            Ranma blushed, then chuckled, taken by the sincerity and oddity of the question.  "Don't ask me."

            "And if you did the same thing with cold water…"

            Ranma turned the cool faucet on in the sink and dunked his head under the running water.  Abruptly he shrunk a foot, his hair flared to scarlet life, and his bosoms expanded under his shirt.

            Akane blinked again, then smiled wonderingly.  "So you're really a guy, though?"

            Ranma was taken aback by the question.  "Like I said," he replied gruffly.

            "Ah."  Akane's voice was still oddly appreciative.  "But you're gonna stay a girl while you're with us?"

            Ranma paused, letting that sink in while the steam thickened around them.  "I guess… now I've put pops in the hot spot, anyway."

            Akane's features suddenly became serious.  "Then there's some stuff we're going to have to discuss."

            While the furo filled, Akane rose and locked the door.

            Ranma became abruptly aware of her position: alone in the bath with a lovely girl whom she was coming to like very much.  Her face heated, but she prayed Akane would think it was the steam.  "What?" she inquired, surprised to find that her voice had leapt an octave higher than her usual contralto.

            Akane seated herself on the bench usually reserved for washing.  Ranma seated herself cautiously on the edge of the furo.  "How much do you know about girls?"

            Ranma blinked—not what she was expecting.  "Oh!  Well, I can act like a girl, it's easy, you just make your eyes big and—"

            "No, no," Akane said—thankfully, before Ranma could complete the beginning of an enormous faux pas.  "I mean… what do you know about _being _one?"

            The redhead considered this.  "Are there…"  She paused and cleared her throat.  "Is there some kind of secret stuff about being a girl?"

            Akane's eyes flickered, and Ranma wondered if she was suppressing a giggle; but Ranma's question was genuine.  She didn't know anything about girlhood except the rough samples of men's behavior towards her new form; as far as she knew, all guys were perverts and wanted some—except she herself, of course—and she could therefore get any guy to do whatever she wanted if she pouted enough or showed enough leg.  That was about it.[7]

            The youngest Tendo shook her head finally.  "There's nothing quite secret about it—you can find it in any health book."

            Ranma froze, a rogue thought taking hold of her mind.  "Akane… you can't think… I'd never get pregnant… I'm not that type of—"[8]

            "Not what I meant!" Akane exclaimed, though there was something like relief in her eyes.  "Ranma—do you know how a girl _becomes_ pregnant?"

            "Well of course I do!"  Ranma had a vaguer idea than most, but sensed that Akane was absolutely certain on this point and that she should appear to be as well.

            The dark haired girl put her head in her hands.  Wordlessly, she rose, opened the cabinet under her sink, and withdrew 'feminine products'.  Just as silently, she handed them to Ranma.

            The redhead examined them for a moment.  "What are these?"

            Akane's left eye twitched; it was obvious she was going to have to be more explicit.  "Ranma, do you know what a period is?"

            That did it.  The other girl paled even further than her milk-white complexion allowed; her blue eyes darted from Akane to the package in her hands, which suddenly dropped from nerveless fingers.  She shook her head and mouthed something that looked like 'no way'.

            Akane shrugged.  "Maybe it won't happen to you, Ranma, but I kind of doubt that.  Your dad said you got this curse less than two months ago, right?"  Her eyes were warm and slightly pitying.

            Ranma nodded.  "R-recently," she replied shakily, still staring at the package on the floor with the loathing and wariness one usually reserves for poisonous vipers.

            "It never hurts to be prepared," Akane stated blandly.  "Here, watch."  Akane ripped open a package and threw away the wrapper.  Quietly and efficiently she demonstrated its relationship to panties.

            "Oh," Ranma replied quietly.  "So if—oh."

            "You tell me if it happens, okay?  There's lots of other stuff, but I don't want to scare you until we know for sure."

            "I ain't afraid…" Ranma's voice quavered a bit at the end.  "…much."

            "Good for you… I was terrified about mine."

            Ranma slowly took this in as Akane reached over to the nozzle of the bath and halted the stream of water flowing into the tub.  They faced each other, Akane's features open and warm, Ranma's doubtful and nervous, until Ranma's began to match the other girl's.  She wasn't sure how to feel, but it was hard to look at Akane smiling and not smile back.

            "Here," the dark-haired girl said companionably.  "I'll scrub your back if you get mine—"

            Ranma froze.

            Thirty minutes later, a much paler looking Ranma-chan emerged from the bath with a large white towel wrapped around her body, followed closely by a giggling, blushing Akane.  

            Meanwhile, Genma was wondering what, exactly, had gone wrong with his sob story.  He'd always been quite good at sob stories—not having a natural talent for them, but rather building up his skills as the years went on.  However, his most recent actually true sob story had obviously fallen on deaf ears.  It was unbelievable!

            Moreover…

            Perhaps the curse became permanent after a certain period of time?  Oh, his poor Ranma, to be taken from him so—

            Nodoka; kami-sama above.  With the curse permanent, Ranma would have no reason whatsoever to be judged a man amongst _anything_.  And back at the home of the Tendos, Genma and his son-turned-daughter had decent odds of simply running into the woman, who lived nearby.  It was time to accept the precept #37 of Anything Goes: _A Moving Target is Harder to Hit.[9]_  Of course, he really had meant to marry his son off, this time—get his son off his hands and a dojo bearing his name in one fell swoop—return to Nodoka in triumph, perhaps the only way she would ever have him.  But desperate times called for desperate measures, of course.

            Genma stood, the gleam in his eyes signifying incipient action, one fist clasped to his chest.

            "What is he doing?" Nabiki whispered to Kasumi behind her hand.  Both of the two Tendo girls had been staring at the older man for the last twenty minutes as he gestured and mumbled to himself.

            "One never can tell," Kasumi replied tartly, annoyed at this man's presence in her home.  

            Looking at the two of them, it was hard to see neither had had this much fun in quite awhile.

            "Hi, oneechan," Akane announced, making the two girls jump.  "Need any help with dinner?"

            Kasumi shook her head quickly, moving to the stove.

            "Guess I'll start in on getting Ranma settled, then.  Where's the extra futon?"

            Nabiki blinked.  "You mean she isn't staying in your room?"

            Akane shook her head.  "She said she wanted to be in the same room as her father—"

            "Nonsense!" Kasumi exclaimed primly.  "A grown girl like that, sleeping in the same room as her father does?  It's improper!"[10]

            Akane chewed her lower lip nervously.  "It's what she's always been doing, oneechan—I don't think she'll be so comfortable with me—"

            "All the more reason to get her started," Kasumi replied in a voice that brooked no argument.  "Did you see what Ranma-chan was wearing?  It's time she started acting more like a proper girl, Akane, and the three of us can help her."  Light illuminated her silhouette for a moment, perhaps a trick she'd picked up from Kuno-san.

            "Oh dear," Akane breathed quietly.  

            "Not our business, Kasumi-oneechan," Nabiki replied dryly.  Enthusiasm of any kind made her itch.

            "But surely the two of you must see that—" Kasumi began.

            Ranma's arrival down the stairs abruptly halted that conversation.  The redhead was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a sleeveless top, looking incredibly sexy in an utterly unconscious way.  "Hi," she announced cheerfully, grinning charmingly.

            "Hi!" Akane returned in kind.  "Why don't we go upstairs while Kasumi finishes dinner—I'll show you where you're going to sleep."  Her tone was a bit defeated; she snuck Kasumi one last pleading glance before slinking upstairs, the redhead trailing behind her.

            Akane slipped into her bedroom and Ranma took a good look around.  In many ways, it was a typical girl's room: the wallpaper was yellow with a pretty, feminine pattern, and the bedspread matched.  A small, stuffed piggy sat on her bed.

            There were many ways, however, in which the room was somewhat schizophrenic as far as gender was concerned.  Barbells (20 pounds each) sat untidily in the corner of the room, crossed slightly over one another.  A couple of manga—Fushigi Yugi and DBZ—littered the desk, along with some half-finished homework.

            Ranma, who had noticed the 'Akane' duck nameplate on the door, was beginning to wonder if she was supposed to be sleeping with Akane.  Fiancées was one thing, but honestly!  Perhaps the girl was thinking of getting a little _too_ friendly.  She was about to speak, but Akane beat her to the punch.

            "My sister insists you stay here with me," she said.  "Sorry, but I couldn't explain without giving you away.  So…"

            "I'll sleep on the floor," Ranma offered.

            "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped.  "You're my guest—_I'll _sleep on the floor."

            Ranma paused.  "But you're the girl—you should sleep in the bed."

            Akane's arm muscles tensed the way they had when Genma had exploded at Ranma's being 'beaten by a girl'.  "In case you haven't noticed," she said, her voice still even and reasonable, "you happen to be in the same condition yourself."

            "But I'm a boy!" Ranma countered.

            "Riiight."  Akane sniffed.  "You have a girl _body_ right now—which, by your reasoning, should not sleep on floors.  Unless you're implying that girls are somehow _mentally_ unequipped to sleep on hard surfaces?"

            For a moment, Ranma blinked at her; a drop of water from Ranma's wet hair dripped down past her eyes and onto the floor.  Then, she began to giggle.

            Akane's serious expression only lasted for a heartbeat longer; her lips twitched and she began to smile.  "Well," she declared defensively, a bit of humor in her tone, "it's _true_…"

            "The travails of sleeping on the floor are utterly incomprehensible to the female mind," Ranma intoned pompously, hands on hips.  "I claim the floor in the name of all manhood."

            Akane began to giggle helplessly.  "Riiight.  You look so manly now, too.  Your breasts especially."

            "So what are we going to do?"

            Two pairs of eyes, one blue, one brown, regarded the bed warily.

  


* * *

[1] Joi is pronounced in the Japanese way, and is not the American "Joy" variant.  Basically Joh- ee.  An actual dog.  J

[2] Luckily, debauchery is not included in Genma's list of vices—or he would have left enough daughters and sons behind him to make Ranma's fiancée problem seem a small thing.  Happousai must've beaten it out of him.

[3] A lot of people are going to question the liberties I've taken with Akane.  Seriously injuring somebody is certainly enough to make a naturally violent person question her worldview, even if the injured person happens to be Kuno.

[4] And wouldn't you?

[5] "It's back to the Catfist training for you, boy!"

[6] No rip-off of Disney's Beauty and the Beast intended.  _Honest_.

[7] Sadly, many honest-to-goodness girls believe this is all they need know.

[8] "—girl!"

[9] Genma had long since forgotten precepts #1-36 and so invariably…

[10] "Especially since it's Genma!"


	2. The Semblance of a Normal Life

Genma Saotome crept through the house, darkness and Umi-Sen Ken keeping him undetected.  He moved from room to room, utterly silent: Kasumi; Nabiki; Akane!  The door creaked when he opened it; he halted breathlessly but stepped inside after he heard no sounds of movement from within.

Inside, there was only one figure asleep… Ranma must have come to his senses and crept downstairs.

No…

Genma held back a curse as he viewed not one but _two_ figures in Akane's bed.  If only he had actually wanted them to be married still, he would have danced for joy—but now he actually winced as he witnessed the two girls spooned together, the shorter Ranma on the outside, Akane's head resting gently on top of hers.  Not only was Ranma attached to the girl already, they were already sleeping together!  No matter whether they'd done anything sexual or not; it was already too close for Genma's comfort.

His conversation with Soun earlier had cemented his decision to take Ranma and run as fast as his legs would carry him.  Akane's nonviolent nonsense—he couldn't risk that rubbing off on his boy.  The last thing he needed for a son was a girl who went around spouting 'give peace a chance'. Yes, it was surely time to employ the Saotome Secret Technique.  Leaning over, he gently shook the boy-turned-girl.  It wouldn't do to wake Akane as well.

Ranma must've been only in a light doze, as her eyes fluttered open immediately.  "Hn?  Whazzat?" she murmured sleepily.  Her blue eyes widened and she froze as she became aware of an arm flung casually around her waist from behind.  She blinked dazedly at her father.

"Time to go, boy," Genma whispered tightly, watching Akane's face for any signs of wakefulness.  He supposed he was going to have to think of something to call Ranma now that she was not his boy anymore.

"Go?"  Ranma was suddenly entirely alert, her body singing with adrenaline.  "Why?"

"Why?  Because it's time to move on, that's why!"

Ranma unconsciously snuggled closer to Akane.  "No!" she whispered vehemently.

"No?" Genma repeated, echoing his son again.  He turned an unflattering shade of purple that was noticeable even in the half-light of the Nerima streetlamp shining through Akane's window.

"You heard what I said," Ranma whispered softly.  "I wanna stay.  I like her.  You can rot, for all I care!"

Genma decided to try a tactic he had seldom, if ever, used: honesty.  "Ranma.  I know I haven't been the most understanding of fathers, and it may seem like I'm being cruel now.  But you'd thank me later.  This kind of living could easily make you soft, boy—sleeping in a bed next to a pretty girl who isn't even aware of your true nature would sound like heaven to any healthy young boy, I'm sure.  But that girl there would be a terrible influence on you.  Already, she must be making you weak.  My son would never sleep next to a girl the way you are."

Ranma paused, having felt the changes Akane was catalyzing in her.  "Go on," she conceded.

Genma tried not to show his surprise.  _Funny, the truth's never worked before…_  "The two of us have spent most of our lives perfecting our martial arts skills, Ranma m'boy," Genma continued hopefully.  "Do you want to throw that all away—all that hard work, all that sacrifice—because a girl you've known for less than twenty-four hours was _nice_ to you?  Listen to me Ranma.  Sometimes I'm foolish, but I know about women: they are delicate, flowering blossoms.  Pretty, smelling sweet—often useless.  Don't fall by the wayside of the art to which you've devoted your life just because of a pretty face!"

For a moment, Ranma's expression became doubtful, and Genma smiled.

Ranma's features slipped to angry.  "Yeah, pops—I'd go with you.  If I happened to be in male form just now."

Genma blinked.  "Huh?"

Ranma had stiffened, all of her small body tense.  "Women are delicate flowering blossoms that are pretty, that smell sweet, and are useless, huh?  What do I look like to you just now?"

Genma cursed himself inwardly, but managed to gather a hasty reply.  "That's just the body, Ranma my boy, the inside is completely different!"

Her blue eyes narrowed and she hissed under her breath.  "But you're _talking_ about the body… unless you're implying girls are delicate in the head!"[1]  She growled softly.  "Go away!  I wanna go back to sleep…"

Saotome Genma stared into those blue eyes, usually so innocent and open, now hooded and ice-cold.  Challenging.  

Looking suddenly a lot like her mother's.

Genma took an unconscious step backward as he made that particular connection.  Come to think of it, Ranma looked a lot like…  Ranma looked _exactly like_… why hadn't he been able to put that together, before?  Sure, the hair was in a different style, and slightly brighter, but that could easily be from the sun.  Quickly he pushed this to the back of his mind to consider later.  "Ranma, stay here and you'll have to marry this girl.  Is that really what you want?"

There was a long pause from the redhead—uncomfortably long.  "No," she said finally, her voice still quiet.

"These people have no reason to take you in then, Ranma," Genma said, a pleased note entering his voice.  Finally, he was getting somewhere!  "Tendo has no reason to take in one more _girl_ when he has three to watch over already!  You'd be imposing."

There was another pause, while Ranma considered this.  "We'll see, pops.  There's no reason to creep away from these folks, anyway.  Unless there's something you've stolen?"  Her eyebrows climbed into her hair in prim reproval.

"No," he said quickly.

"Then what's all the sneaking around?" she inquired.  She yawned widely.  "We ain't done anything wrong, pops… we could go tomorrow and say a proper goodbye, y'know.  It's…"  Ranma's eyes shifted briefly to the clock on Akane's nightstand.  "…three o'clock in the morning.  Go back to sleep."  And she snuggled more fully under the covers as though that was truly the end of the discussion, closing her eyes and utterly dismissing him.

Genma was left kneeling on the floor next to Akane's bed, feeling like a fool.  _Gotten too used to running around, too used to always having something wrong_, an old, scarce-used bit of sense informed him.  He'd really be doing old Tendo a turn, creeping away in the night like this—and he did like the insufferable fool a great deal.  He'd even missed him.

For a moment, he stared at the young redhead, but his mind was not seeing her there; instead, two pictures warred in his brain: one of Ranma as the boy he had raised, and the other of Nodoka, the woman he had wooed.  Shaking his head free of cobwebs, he rose and slipped soundlessly out the door.

Akane stirred, drawing Ranma closer to her body.  "Always… like this?" she mumbled softly.

Ranma wasn't sure if she was actually still asleep or not, so she replied.  "We stopped for more n' a year twice: once when I was very small and just starting school, and once in junior high.  Besides that, I've been moving around as long as I can remember."

Then the girl whispered something that made a tingle run from Ranma's toes to the tips of her hair: "Not anymore."

That morning was an unusual one for Ranma, to say the least.  Morning light shone on her features and woke her before her father could kick her or shake her violently awake.  For a moment, her sleepiness warred with the bright sunshine and she considered just turning over and going back to sleep.

Then she heard a noise behind her: "mmmm…."

That was a noise that should not be there, as far as Ranma was concerned.  In fact, there were several incongruous things about the morning—the bright sunshine and lack of foot in her gut amongst them.  But there was also—ye gods!—a comforter over her body… _two_ pillows behind her head…

Warm arm around her waist…

Ranma sat up abruptly and scuttled away from a sleeping girl that her brain refused to recognize, gasping like a fish deprived of its natural habitat.  The girl was beautiful, too, some remote part of Ranma's brain noted, with long dark hair in a flattering style, dark, heavy lashes, and slightly parted lips.  The soft rhythm of the girl's  breathing skipped a beat; she, too, was stirring.

"Mmm," she declared again, sitting up, rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms to the ceiling.

Ranma continued to stare blankly; it was all she currently seemed capable of.  Luckily, her shock was wearing off, and she was going through yesterday's events in chronological order.  _Girl, yes.  Akane.  But why in bed?  Fiancée!  No—there's no way.  Pops talked to me about—we talked.  Yes.  And both sleeping in the bed seemed reasonable at the time._

Ranma's first coherent thought of the morning finally surfaced.  _She's going to kill me_.  Ranma waited for Akane to turn and scream.

The redhead was not disappointed.  "Eeek!  PERVERT!" the dark haired girl exclaimed, knocking Ranma off of her bed by abruptly extending her arm at the elbow and smashing her fist into the other girl's face.

Ranma toppled over, landing on her neck.  "Sorrysorrysorry!" she screeched, her hands up in a warding gesture.  A small whimper from beneath Ranma informed her that Joi had mistakenly thought it was a good idea to sleep next to Akane's bed.  A somewhat squished dog wormed its way out from underneath the redhead.

Akane peered over the edge of her bed, her eyes wide and contrite.  "Ranma!  I forgot!"  She reached out with both arms and pulled Ranma back up onto the bed with surprising ease.  "I'm so sorry… oooh, that looks like it hurts…"

Ranma attempted a smile.  "Remind me never to surprise you."

Akane's apologetic gaze turned abruptly into a deeper sorrow that Ranma couldn't read.  "Let's get ready for school," she suggested suddenly, masking that sorrow and shame with a sunny smile.

The redhead blinked at her.  Several things surprised her.  First of all, Ranma had never seen anybody's expression change that many times in the space of a second.  And there was also… "School?" Ranma inquired, eyebrows raised.  "But…"

"Well, you are going to be here awhile, right?" the dark-haired girl inquired.  "You might as well get an education!"

Ranma found she couldn't disagree with the other girl, although a nervous pang attacked her stomach.  It had been ages since she'd been to school with any regularity, and she expected Akane would be ten times as smart as she was.  A shy glance at Akane confirmed that she seemed quite serious about this one.  The other girl was already brushing her hair in front of the mirror in a businesslike fashion, ignoring Ranma for all intents and purposes.  She didn't expect an argument from the redhead.

"I'll go and, ah, brush my teeth then," Ranma offered quietly, slipping from the room.  Joi followed.

In the bathroom, Ranma warred with Nabiki for use of the sink.  The middle Tendo girl was obviously _not_ a morning person; her short hair was tousled, standing up at all odd angles, and one of her eyes appeared to be more open than the other.  When Ranma wished her a good morning, she cursed in reply—or at least, that's what it sounded like.  Hoping for a warmer reception, Ranma moved downstairs to see if anyone else was awake yet.

The eldest Tendo daughter, Kasumi, was putting some muffins into the oven as Ranma made her way downstairs.  "Mornin', Kasumi," the redhead greeted with a smile.  Joi barked happily and made his way to the stove, sniffing the air eagerly.

Kasumi smiled cheerily back.  "Would you mind setting the table for me, Ranma-chan?"

Ranma's smile twitched, but she immediately and automatically moved to comply.  Kasumi thought she was a girl, after all.  Besides, she meant to pull her weight at the Tendos', even if it meant doing women's work.  Pops was right: the Tendos had no particular reason to keep her here, so she'd best do what she could to earn her keep.  She accepted the plates Kasumi handed her and placed them at equidistant spots on the empty table.  Then she placed the teacups on each plate, and tossed the chopsticks on top.

Kasumi's hand fluttered to her mouth in mild surprise.  "Ranma… you don't… you've never…?"  But she was already moving the teacups and chopsticks to their proper places as she spoke.  

"It matters?"  

The eldest Tendo girl paused, actually considering Ranma's question; in that moment, Ranma felt herself relax.  Kasumi was really nice not to snap back at her, and she didn't seem to have to make an effort at keeping her temper the way Akane did.  Instead of being rude back, Kasumi was actually going to answer her question honestly!  "Well, it does _look_ prettier when each thing goes to the place where it belongs," she said contemplatively, looking at the table as though she saw not plates, cups, and napkins, but some kind of intricate pattern beyond Ranma's comprehension.  "Also, I'll bet in the old days it stopped arguments."

This didn't make much sense to Ranma, and her puzzlement was plain on her face.  "If everybody did it the same way, nobody could say whose was better?"

Kasumi grinned at her briefly.  "Maybe—but not what I meant.  If the cup always goes to the upper right of the plate, there is never any question which cup is _yours_, is there?  Warriors in the feudal days found the oddest things to argue about.  Why, I read an account in my high school history class in which Yoroboshi the Incredibly Large started a skirmish over a chicken bone he believed was his.  Hundreds of lives were lost."[2]  She calmly sipped a sample of the miso she had been cooking on the stovetop.

Ranma began to seriously wonder whether high school rotted the brain when Akane bounded down the stairs in a light blue and white school uniform.  A wide blue bow held most of her hair back, except for two slender strands framing her face.  "Mmm.  What smells so good?" she demanded.  Her eyes passed to Ranma.  "What are you doing sitting there?  We'll be late if you don't go get some clothes on.  Shoo!"

When Ranma leapt up the stairs, her sharp ears heard the beginnings of a conversation about her, but she continued on to Akane's room where her small pack was sitting in a corner.  She found that she trusted both Kasumi and Akane, and had no particular reason to listen in.

Nabiki, of course, had no such compunctions.

"…dog," Kasumi finished tightly.  "Are you willing to take care of it, Akane?  What if Ranma does not?"

"Ranma will," Akane's younger, more stringent voice declared firmly.  "And if, for some reason, she breaks her leg or something, _I _will."

Kasumi sighed.  "And are you willing to take responsibility for Ranma herself?  This is quite important, Akane.  Are you willing to take slights upon her upon yourself, and her misdeeds as well?"

"Ranma's honorable!" Akane exclaimed, bristling.  "She would never do anything to embarrass me!"

There was a completely silent pause; Nabiki could not even hear breathing.  Then, Kasumi spoke again.  "Think about this, Akane," she advised.

"I have already," Akane said.  "You have no idea what Ranma has gone through, Kasumi.  A lot of what she's told me makes me miserable inside, and I have the feeling I've only begun to scratch the surface.  I'd be honorless myself if I didn't help her out at least a _little_.  And I don't mind helping out a lot."

Nabiki heard the smile in Kasumi's words.  "I'm glad, Akane-chan.  I like her."

A relieved sigh from Akane.  "Me, too!"

Nabiki descended the rest of the way down the stairs.  "Morning," she offered tiredly, going straight for the coffee and pouring herself a steaming cup.

"Good morning, oneechan!"  Akane's smile was bright with the promise of a new project.  Nabiki wasn't so certain about how things were going, though.  Akane's last 'project' had been a tiny bird she had rescued after it had fallen out of its nest, several months ago.  And _it_ had died.

Still she gamely offered a good morning, exchanging a significant glance with her elder sister before sliding to her usual place at the table.  Miso and muffins.  Kasumi was nothing if not versatile.

"Come on, Ranma, or you'll miss breakfast!" Akane called upstairs before seating herself as well.

Soun Tendo slid into his usual spot without looking up, a pipe between his teeth and a newspaper in his hands.  

"You'd be surprised how fast I can eat!" floated down from upstairs.  Akane snorted and took a bite of muffin.  Kasumi seated herself as well, sipping her soup delicately.  

No one noticed what was missing until Ranma slid into the kitchen in her stocking-feet and began eating like some kind of machine.  "Where's pops?" she inquired, also at super-sonic speed.

Soun suddenly seemed to realize that the outside world existed.

"Where's my dad?" Ranma repeated more normally.  "He didn't wake me up this morning; he always does."

"He said he'd gone to find part-time work," Soun replied, raising his paper again and shaking it out in front of him.

"He… he did?"  The redhead blinked, surprised.  "Hell must have frozen over!"

Kasumi blinked at her disapprovingly—only Kasumi could manage to do such a thing—but Nabiki and Akane smirked.

Or maybe_, _the redhead thought with some trepidation, they were actually going to stay awhile?  _Without _a fight?  She crossed her fingers under the table in hope.  

With all the thinking, Ranma had stopped eating.  She resumed with a fervor usually reserved for a lion at the kill.  Akane, Nabiki, and Soun joined Kasumi in staring incredulously at the redhead as food literally seemed to disappear off of her plate.

Ranma covered a burp daintily with one hand.  "Seconds, please?" she queried politely.

Wordlessly, Kasumi served Ranma Genma's soup and muffin.  Down they went, into Ranma's Foodspace (similar to Akane's as of yet undiscussed and unexhibited Malletspace).  Never to (speakably) return.

Nabiki shook her head to herself and stood, grabbing her small, black leather  briefcase, obviously preparing to leave.

Akane leapt up, dark hair swishing, moments behind Nabiki.  "Just a second!" Akane exclaimed.  "I'll go with you!"

"Nonsense, little sister," Nabiki said with a sharklike smile.  "Your friend over there, the human vacuum, looks like she isn't done yet.  Why don't you wait for your fiancée?"

Akane paused, motion utterly arrested, then blushed, stammering some kind of denial.  But she also stayed.

Ranma knew when she was being waited on; she swallowed the rest of her miso in one big gulp, and dashed to Akane's side with a perky grin.  "We ready?"

Joi barked in response, and jumped a bit.

Ranma's expression fell.  "Not you, boy.  _I'm _going to school.  You have to admit you don't have must use for the book learnin'."

Joi turned dark, liquid brown eyes to Akane.

They're called puppy-eyes for a reason.  Akane's own expression immediately softened.  "Come on, Ranma; I know someone who would be happy to take care of Joi while we're at school.  That way he can walk us at least halfway."

Ranma conceded.  She didn't like having Joi away from her any longer than humanly possible, anyway.

The three set out.  Ranma tugged at her best Chinese shirt, made of medium-blue silk, trying to make it fit her more properly.  Joi gamboled alongside Ranma and Akane, letting out an enthused bark occasionally, hiding behind Ranma during more scary times like when automobiles passed, when other people got too close, or when there was a noise louder than a pindrop.  Joi was not exactly the bravest of dogs, but Ranma loved him for one, solid reason: he kept away certain _other_ animals.[3]

Akane swung her case back and forth in one arm, obviously in high spirits.  She had made a new friend who had a fascinating secret—and she was responsible for Ranma!  That made it all the more exciting.

Suddenly, Ranma looked up at the fence next to the sidewalk.  With a grin, she leapt up onto the narrow length of metal, her arms out for balance.  After a moment, she lowered them; a lot easier than she'd thought.  Joi half-leapt up on his hind legs nervously, as though demanding she come down.

Akane blinked up at her with an odd smile on her face.  "I once knew a girl in Bridgewater that could walk the ridgepole of a roof," she quoted wryly.

"Akane!"  A new voice sounded from down the street; a sweet, beautiful smile lit Akane's features as she heard it.

"Tofu-sensei!" she exclaimed happily.  She turned to Ranma excitedly—  "This was the person I was talking about!"— before jogging to the older man's side.  Ranma leapt down and followed, stopping several feet away from the pair.

Tofu-sensei was a handsome enough young man, with a martial artist's physique and mild features.  "Akane!  And who is your friend?"

Akane was blushing, Ranma noticed.  "I'm Ranma, sir.  Nice to meetcha."  She bowed.

"Saotome Ranma?" Tofu inquired.  "But… I heard that you and Akane were to be engaged!"

Akane giggled nervously.  "Well sensei, as you can see, that's not much of a possibility."

She and Tofu laughed together briefly, while Ranma felt herself begin to fume.  She had been… left out, somehow, and felt the need to return the attention to herself.  She might have done something stupid if Tofu had not begun to stare at her dog.

"And this is?" Tofu inquired, crouching slightly to bring himself to Joi's level.

Much to Ranma's secret joy, Joi cringed and barked.  "That's Joi, sir.  I'm afraid he isn't much good around strangers."[4]

"We were wondering if you could watch him for a bit, though," Akane said, smiling.  "It's hard to keep him from Ranma, but we need to get to school; if we don't hurry, we'll be late as it is."

Tofu nodded.  "Alright then, dears.  Why don't you two go off and have a good time at school?  Try not to get into any _trouble_, Akane…"

Akane lowered her gaze, her eyes suddenly bright.  "Certainly, doctor.  I mean… I haven't been doing anything that would…"  She bowed low.  "Thank you very much," she said, and spun.

Ranma wondered if her girl body was beginning to affect her mind, as she suddenly had the raw urge to slam the other man into the wall behind him with a great deal of force.  She clamped down on the strange inclination; maybe Akane's legendary temper was simply rubbing off on her.  Ranma contented herself with casting Tofu-sensei a very dirty look before hurrying after her new friend.  Joi barked, but held still when Tofu gently took him by the muff.

Ranma spent the next couple of moments catching up to Akane, who had sped ahead.

"We're going to be late," Akane offered in response to a curious look from Ranma, though the redhead could tell her eyes were still suspiciously bright.

"I'm surprised Joi went with Tofu-sensei at all," Ranma offered, trying to get Akane to talk about whatever was bothering her.  "That dog got way more comfortable with me after the curse, to be honest.  He just hates guys."

"I know how he feels," Akane mumbled.

"Hn?" Ranma queried, watching the strange interplay of emotions on Akane's fluid features.  She was becoming angry again, though, Ranma could tell…

"I… _HATE_… boys!" she exclaimed, skidding to a sudden halt.  

Ranma was wrong; Akane's expression was settling on shocked, instead.  The dark-haired girl scanned the area as though she was looking for something in the school's empty courtyard.  Her muscles went quietly slack.

"Quite the boorish lot," a cold voice sounded behind the pair.

Akane and Ranma spun as one being to stare at a very tall young man ten feet behind them.  Akane was tensing again already, though; Ranma watched, taking her cue from the only person she knew and perhaps the only one she'd ever trusted who wasn't family or Ucchan.  The redhead's eyes narrowed and she slipped into a stance with a startling ease.  "What lot?" she demanded.  "I don't see anyone here but you, me, n' Akane—and if you're implying that about one of _us_, you'd better back right up, buddy."

Neither girl nor boy reacted.  Akane simply stared at the young man in front of them as though expecting him to reveal more of his hand; she neither addressed him nor moved towards him in any way.  Instead, she held herself with a sort of ready caution, as though she were not certain whether he intended to attempt murder or wish her a good morning.[5]

Ranma took the opportunity to examine her situation further.  The young man in front of Ranma was beautiful, if in a haughty and somewhat supercilious way.  He held a rose in one hand, not as though he intended to give it to anybody particularly, but as though he were accustomed to carting one around.  Something about him gave Ranma the shivers.  She'd met other boys like him on her journeys, young men so convinced of their own battle prowess that they got themselves killed ten times more easily than the average male.  It was a wonder, in fact, that Mother Nature hadn't weeded his type from the population long ago by natural selection.

There was plenty of space, which bespoke good conditions for her fighting style, if it came to that.  A large swimming pool shimmered almost completely out of sight on the right side of the school.  Ranma's blue eyes flicked up the facade; several students were hanging out the windows, witnessing the spectacle below, Nabiki among them.  The redhead searched Nabiki's features for a moment, but the middle Tendo girl appeared to be as confused and concerned as Akane herself.

Finally, Akane spoke.  "Well, Kuno?"

"Akane Tendo: will you do battle with me?"  He tossed her the rose; Akane ignored it, letting it whistle past her cheek.

Ranma, however unfortunately, caught it out of sheer reflex.  "What the--?" she murmured.  Then she noticed the thin stream of blood dripping down Akane's face just below her right eye.  A thorn had scraped her as the rose had gone whizzing through the air.  Ranma's fists clenched at her sides.  "Akane," she said softly, her voice dangerous.  "Go inside."  She wanted to tear this ridiculous upstart apart with her bare hands.

Akane ignored Ranma for all intents and purposes.  "I refuse you," she said frostily, her eyes fixed on Kuno.  

"If you refuse a challenge," he replied, seeming quite surprised by this development, "you cast aspersions on your entire clan."

"I'll take up your damned challenge!" Ranma declared cockily, flicking her braid over her shoulder.

Once again, she was ignored as Akane considered Kuno's reply, a discouraged expression on her face.  "Kuno, why do you have to?" she finally implored.  "I keep beating you—and I wouldn't date you even if you won!"

Ranma blinked furiously, half shocked that she'd been ignored—again—and half wondering what Akane was talking about.  Dating?  At the same time, she recalled where she knew the name 'Kuno' from: Akane put this guy in the hospital!

"Ridiculous!" he asserted haughtily, but there was a bit of doubt on his face.

Akane nodded at him, her eyes wide with the effort to fix him to her gaze, to convince him of the truth of the matter.  "We're not meant for each other, sempai.  Plain and simple.  I tried to tell you with my fists, but maybe that wasn't the best way."

"Nonsense!" he repeated.  "You are simply… shy…"

From the window, Ranma's sensitive ears caught some conversation.

"You mean someone's trying to use logic on Kuno?"

"Like trying to use your finger to smash a rock." [6]  The redhead recognized Nabiki's acerbic intonation.

Akane shook her head.  "Shy… Yes.  Shy enough not to tell you how I really feel…"

For a moment, Kuno's eyes brightened.

"I detest you," Akane said firmly, her own gaze glacial.  "You and that stupid hakama, and your stupid bokken, and your stupid haughtiness."  Tears leaked from her eyes—tears of bitterness and frustration.  "The way you incited all the boys in this school to fight me every morning until it became routine—the way you made me angry enough to really hurt you, and the fact that you could again."  She wiped her tears with a hasty hand, impatient with herself.  "You made me hate myself.  I could _never_ forgive you for that… m-much less… d-date you…"   Tears were now streaming down the dark-haired girl's face, but she ignored them, her stare blazing, her fists clenched.  "Sayonara, Kuno-sempai."  She spun, ignoring Kuno, ignoring _Ranma_, ignoring everything and everyone except the hurt in herself.  As if in response to her own emotions, as though Akane was some kind of minor kami, the skies opened and it began to pour.

The dark-haired young man stared after her, then turned his attention to the redhead.  "And who are you?" he demanded, a deep unsettlement in his eyes.

Ranma opened her mouth to reply—

"Never mind," he said suddenly, with an abortive wave of his hand.  "Pray—give this to Tendo Akane if you get the chance."  Quickly he drew a pen and a sheet of very fine paper from inside his shirt.  After scribbling briefly on it, he handed it to Ranma.  Bowing deeply, he backed away from her and began to stride in the opposite direction.

Ranma stared at the small note in her hand, then stared after him.

He turned to gaze at the redhead, as though there was something he had forgotten to mention.  "Thank you."

Ranma nodded.  Then, once his back was turned, she ripped the note into tiny wet pieces and strode inside.

******

Ranma wandered through the school aimlessly, having no idea where Akane might go if upset.  Altogether it appeared to be a nice school as schools went; the clocktower had rung in the school day easily twenty minutes ago.  Several trophies lined the walls, many for kendo, kempo, or more obscure martial arts; it looked like Ranma had come to the right place.  

"Hey!"

Ranma turned at the sound of a female voice.  A young girl in the same outfit as Akane came trotting up to her.  "Hi," Ranma said, bowing a bit.

"You looking for the bathroom or something?" the girl inquired.

The bathroom!  Of course!  Ranma wanted to hit herself.  "Uh, yeah."

"I don't mind showing it!  This is your first day, huh?"

"And I got drenched," Ranma agreed.  "Not the best beginning."

"I'm Yuka.  What's your name?"

"Ranma Saotome," Ranma replied.  "I'm staying with Akane Tendo at her place right now."

"Akane?  You're looking for _her_, aren't you?"

Ranma froze, but nodded after a moment.

"We're in the same boat, then," Yuka replied with a sigh of relief.  "I've got Sayuri checking the bathroom upstairs, and I'm certain Nabiki has her people combing everyplace else."

_Her people_? Ranma wondered.  Nabiki sounded positively Yakuza.  

"Oh—here we are," Yuka said, stepping through the door marked 'female.'

Ranma stared at the sign, something deep within her panicking.  The _girl's bathroom_?  The redhead took a deep breath as though she believed that a new planet with uncertain air lay beyond the threshold, squared her shoulders, and pushed through.  Other than the fact that it was both pink and oddly clean, it looked just like the boy's room at her old junior high.  The sounds of sniffling were emerging from one of the five stalls to her left.  

"Akane?" Yuka demanded.

The sniffling stopped abruptly.

Yuka placed her hands on slender hips.  "Tendo Akane, I know you're in here someplace; come out, your fiancée is here."  She pushed the redhead forward in the guise of patting her on the back.

"Ranma?"  It was hard to believe the thin, reedy voice emerging from one of the stalls belonged to Akane.

"Hey, Akane… you in there?"

There was a short pause.  "No, dummy, it's somebody else; _I'm_ in Hokkaido."  Her voice was rough from crying, but she now sounded a great deal more herself.  After another small space, a bathroom door opened and she slid out, slightly shamefaced.  "Sorry," she said, head hung.  "I needed a good cry."

Yuka stepped forward immediately, to envelop Akane in her arms.  "Hey, honey," she said softly, stroking Akane's hair.  "You okay?"

Ranma almost stepped backward in surprise.  "H-huh?" she blurted unthinkingly.  "A-are you two...?"

Yuka and Akane both turned, Akane still in Yuka's arms.  "Hn?" Yuka asked absently.

Akane quickly explained.  "We're best friends," she said.  Her eyes met Yuka's.  "Ranma went to a boy's school last."

Yuka blinked.

"Long story," Akane said, as though that explained everything immediately.

For some reason, Yuka acted as though it did.

The girl's room door slammed open and a fourth girl sped inside.  "Is Akane—?  Akane!" she exclaimed, hugging the girl in question.

The Tendo girl blushed.  "Were you all looking for me?" she inquired.

Ranma, Yuka, and the new girl all nodded.  "No big deal," Ranma assured her quickly, as tears threatened.

"No, not again!" Yuka exclaimed.  

"Happy tears!" Akane informed them, wiping her cheeks with the heel of one hand.  She reached out with both hands and squeezed Ranma and Yuka on their shoulders.  "Thanks.  Yuka, Sayuri—let me formally introduce you to my…"

"Fiancée," Yuka filled in with a wide grin.

"How did you guys know?  Even that doctor guy knew!" Ranma wondered.

"Doctor Tofuuu?" Sayuri drawled, following it up with a giggle.  Akane swatted her.

Yuka ignored the other two girls, as that sort of teasing was quite routine between them.  "Tendo Nabiki, of course.  Want your head on a pike?  Just ask her."

"In fact, you don't even have to ask," Sayuri interjected again.

Akane rolled her eyes.  "Come _on_ guys, my sister's not that bad."

Ranma was having a little trouble even following them.  "She's a headhunter?" she queried intelligently.

"Among other things," Akane replied.[7]  "But most people make her out to be a lot worse than she actually is."

"She made Jet 'Pitbull' Domo cry yesterday," Sayuri countered darkly.

Akane shrugged.  "Wimp," she proclaimed.  "Come on, Ranma; let's get to class, okay?"

A smile twitched at the edges of Ranma's mouth.  Girls were so delicate, but… crisis averted.  She nodded.

Sayuri, Akane, and Yuka exchanged a glance.  "We are sooo late," they said in unison.  They headed for the door.

The teacher lifted his eyeglasses higher onto his nose, his monotone voice introducing Saotome Ranma.

"Uhm… excuse me, sir…" Ranma said in a slightly nervous voice.  "That's not how you write my name…"

"Oh?"  The mousy man appeared to find this to be some kind of personal affront.  "Please, enlighten me."

Ranma gulped, meeting Akane's eyes.  The dark-haired girl shrugged at her, then nodded.  "It doesn't have the flower there.  It's the horse character—ma, see?"[8]  She reached out and corrected it on the board behind her.

"That's a boy's name," the sensei countered.

"My pops wanted a boy, sir."

"Well then, Saotome Ran_ma_, perhaps you'll take a seat next to Akane?"

Ranma nodded.  "Thanks a lot, she's my, er, best friend!"  Ranma blinked.  She was about to say 'fiancée' like those two crazy girls.  Great.[9]

"No matter the spelling of your name, or the extenuating circumstances with Kuno-san, you, your 'best friend', and her two best friends, were all _late_ this morning.  Please stand in the hall."

"So what's Kuno's deal, anyway?" Ranma demanded, one of her buckets resting steadily on her head.  It was good balance practice and besides, her arms were tired; she just wasn't used to carrying things around as a girl.

Yuka sighed.  "Awhile ago, Kuno decided that anybody who wanted to date Akane had to beat her first."

"…in 'honorable combat'," Akane added dully.

"Not that it's even close to honorable anymore," Sayuri put in.  "After awhile, they all just started to attack at once, y'know?"

Ranma blinked.  "Who's 'they'?"

"Oh, that's right!" Sayuri replied, bringing her fist down into her open palm in realization.  "The entire male population _didn't_ attack Akane today!"

Ranma recalled Akane's surprised look at the empty walkway leading up to the school, and her sudden, skidding stop.  "Why not?"

Yuka sighed dramatically.  "Since this was the first day Kuno was back from the hospital, he demanded this one day to himself, apparently.  But you told _him_, Akane!"

"How much do you want to bet that Nabiki has a tape of that?" Sayuri demanded of Yuka slyly.  "I want to watch it over and over."

"Audio or video?"

"SAOTOME RANMA!"  Kuno came barreling down the hallway, still carrying his buckets.  "IS IT TRUE?!"

Ranma found herself backing away from the madman, followed closely by Akane.

"Is what true, exactly, upperclassman?" Akane said in a heated voice.

"THAT YOU ARE ENGAGED?!  TO ONE ANOTHER?!"

Yuka and Sayuri winced in concert as the windows behind the five students opened and began spitting out teenagers in various states of distress.  "Akane, how could you?  You said you hated boys!"  "That's a _girl_.  Wearing boy's clothing."  "Knew it all along—didn't I say just yesterday that Akane was a dy—"

"Our—our parents decided..." Akane was exclaiming, waving her hands in protest.  

"It's not like that!" Ranma screeched, blushing as she heard some of the dirtier comments.  "Akane's a _nice_ girl!"  She couldn't quite say the same for herself, of course, not feeling much like a girl of any kind.

"Now I understand truly why you shied from me earlier this morning, Tendo Akane," Kuno pontificated.  "Thy honor-bound heart was, er, bound already to this redheaded upstart.  Lovely though she may be, your blooms would be wasted on one another."

Akane's face was turning an unflattering shade of purple.  "I… I never!" she finally managed.  "Kuno-san… whatever gave you such an idea?  And I was utterly sincere when I said I hated your guts, damn it!"

Ranma's cheeks were heating, too, but no longer from embarrassment.  "All right, buddy, that's _it_.  You seem like you've got a death wish— or maybe not fighting Akane this morning just threw your whole schedule out of whack."  She slipped into a waiting stance, an almost scary focus in her eyes and a smile that was _definitely_ scary hovering over her lips.  "We haven't been properly introduced," she hissed.  "I'm Saotome Ranma, heir to the Anything-Goes school of Martial Arts, otherwise known as the guy who's going kick your ass from here back to whatever the hell you crawled out from under."

And despite ending her sentence in a preposition and slipping up with an important pronoun, Ranma _did_ finally manage to spoil for a fight—on page twenty-six.

Furinkan High was an old school; it had been built in 1925, and rebuilt in 1953, and refurbished at some indeterminate point in the 80's.  For as long as the school had been in existence, the headmaster or mistress had always been a person of dignity and respect, beloved by students, honored by teachers, and trusted by the Nerima community.  And if you believe that, there's a lovely uncursed spring I'd like to sell you.

As such, the Furinkan students possessed the respect due such a hallowed institution.

Fifty students flew down the hallways in pursuit of a red pigtail and a white hakama.  Fifty students gained one gym teacher, a history professor (plus class), and a small film crew as they fled the hallways to the sanctity of the Fighting Ground.  

Ranma was in her element.  Somehow, the new dark-haired girl in her life had a way of keeping her from jumping around as was proper, or showing off, which was less proper but at least as much fun.  She leapt through the hallways at super-sonic speed, tossing insults over her shoulder until she was pretty sure Kuno would appreciate tearing her limb from limb.  Then she tossed some more insults.

One thing caught her attention, though.  The buzz behind her, created by the growing number of Furinkan High students and faculty, indicated that the prize in this fight was Akane herself.  A glance behind her showed that Akane had gone from being purple to an angry pink; her expression promised violence to anyone who said she was a 'prize' to her face.  Moved by some foreign impulse, Ranma grinned impudently at her and winked.  Akane blushed in surprise, then stuck out her tongue and turned her face away from him in an angry huff, chin high.

Furinkan students spilled out of the front doors sheer moments after the sprinting Ranma and Kuno, instinctively encircling their prey.  Ranma was surprised at first to hear that many of the students were rooting for _her_—but maybe it was more that they'd love to see someone win who was not Kuno or Akane.

Kuno brought his bokken to bear, a wicked smile on his face.  "You aren't bad looking," he observed.  "If you win—I shall allow you to date with me."

Ranma faltered briefly.  "And who wants to date _you_?" she demanded.  "Hey, wait a minute—I don't wanna fight you at all if that's what I get as a prize!"

Akane tugged on Ranma's arm and whispered in her ear.

"Are you sure?"

Akane's expression flattened.  "Are _you_?  He's skilled, Ranma."

"Hmph!  No one's beaten me yet—not for long, anyway.  All right—fiancée.  Let's do this."

Akane blushed, but her expression remained stony.  "Fine."

Ranma faced Kuno once again.  "Hey, lunkhead.  How about this prize?"  She raised Akane's arm into the air by the wrist.

Akane was passing Ranma her best Blazing Stare of Death.

"Akane's bracelet?"  Voices slid out from the pile of people surrounding the three.

"Idiots!  Akane!" Ranma countered.  "Whoever wins gets Akane, forever.  And whoever loses never talks to Akane again."

Kuno considered.  "You offer high stakes," he offered, as though conceding a point in the redhead's favor.  "Very well, then.  I am in the mood to gamble.  Meet your doom, young woman.  I am Tatewaki Kuno, the rising star of the kendo world, the undefeated new star of the fencing world… but my peers call me the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High!"

"Undefeated?!" Akane growled.  "What do you call what I've done to you every morning for the last year?!"

"A setback," Kuno replied with a rakish grin.  "Now, young lady: on guard!"

Ranma brought her arms up in front of her body, wicked grin comfortably back in place.  As Kuno rushed her, she jumped, leaving the ground as though she weighed less than nothing, only less than nothing wouldn't be quite so fast… flipping once in the air over the kendoist's head, she bounced harmlessly off of a young oak, pushing off with her legs.

Tatewaki Kuno, the rising star of the fencing world, had already aimed and struck at the place where Ranma had originally been standing; all it took to aim again was to swing one-hundred-eighty degrees, so he did that, too.  His mighty wooden stick slashed at the oak, rendering it so much firewood.

Ranma was impressed in spite of herself.  "Not bad, kemo-sabe," she observed, still grinning.  "But you're far slower than me!"

"You are indeed skilled!" he replied, "but we shall see who holds the final victory."

Akane was staring at Ranma, slack-jawed.  Blinking dazedly, she watched as Ranma finished her arc to the ground.

"Omigosh!" Sayuri exclaimed excitedly.  "Akane, did you see that?  Did you see _that_?"

Akane nodded numbly as Ranma seemed to disappear to the naked eye.  Suddenly, the redhead was in front of Kuno, her expression deadly and focused.  "Get this—Akane doesn't like you.  I don't like you.  I doubt anybody likes you _or_ wishes to date with you, either!"  Just as suddenly, she had flipped back again, with a speed and alacrity that had the entire crowd gasping with an almost painful awe.  Kuno managed to bring his weapon to the fore just as Ranma flew from the sky, landing a solid blow to his face.

"She's fast!  Ranma's fast, isn't she, Akane?" Sayuri chattered.

"The fastest I've ever seen," Akane replied.

Yuka blinked.  "Faster than you, you mean?"

Akane found herself nodding again minutely, eyes still wide and locked on the fight.  In the time that they had spoken, the fight had already moved close to the statue of Furinkan's founder, Doctor Leonard Lin.  Lin was depicted with a sword strapped to his arm and an apple on top of his head.  He was also cross-gartered.  No one quite knew why.

With a great deal of surprise, Akane watched as the fight seemed to slow.  Ranma had snatched something out of the air, and appeared to be in shock.  She turned unerringly to face the dark-haired girl.  "Akane, it's--!"

"Eyes front, idiot!" Akane exclaimed as Kuno finally got in a solid blow to Ranma's stomach.

"Oof!  But, Akane—"

"Do you _want_ to never speak to me again?" she implored.

"YOU DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY?!" Kuno screeched, and delivered a series of jabbing attacks that almost rivaled Ranma for speed.

The redhead was forced to fall back, rolling to a stop between Akane's legs.[10] 

"He's good, Ranma, didn't I tell you?" she inquired, an exasperated note to her voice.  "Now go back and kick his butt!"

Ranma was blushing.  "You know, blue really is your color," she opined, before flipping to her feet.

Akane considered this.  Sure, her uniform was blue; why would that make Ranma blush?  A hand flew to her mouth as she realized just what other bits of her clothing happened to be blue today…

Ranma licked a bit of blood off of her lip.

"Hah!  First blood to me!" Kuno declared.

"That's a nosebleed," she replied archly.  "You can get one of those from changes in air pressure."

"Air pressure?"  Kuno laughed maniacally.  "Hah!  This, fool, is pressure…"  With a mighty series of strikes, he began to rend the air.  The statue of Leonard Lin began to crumble next to Akane, Yuka and Sayuri.[11]

"Out of the way!" Ranma screamed at them.  She turned to Kuno.  "And _you_… you just endangered three _girls_!"  At the apex of a long, low leap, Ranma's slender right leg blurred.

Kuno teetered a bit; then, he fell.

Akane let out a whistle of air, the crowd cheered, and the photographers snapped pictures.  In mere moments, however, the people evaporated, most of them being herded back to class by excited teachers and faculty.

"Ranma… what were you trying to tell me, before?" Akane inquired.  "It must have been pretty important…"  She scratched the back of her neck nervously, hoping Ranma would forget she'd called her an idiot.

Ranma giggled nervously, eyes trailing the grass, hoping Akane would forget the comment about her panties.  "You aren't going to believe this…"

Akane accepted the small pieces of paper from Ranma's hands—or at least, that's what they seemed to be at first.  When she began to examine them, she went white, then red.

"What is it?"  Yuka snatched one of the photographs from Akane's numb hands— for photographs they were, dear reader.

The picture Yuka had claimed was of an innocent enough situation: two girls, asleep.  However, there was something about the way Akane's arm was wrapped possessively around the smaller redhead's waist, Ranma's hand encircled in her own, or perhaps even the suggestive tilt of Ranma's hips… the camera angle?  In any case, the result was the hint if not the statement of some kind of licentiousness.

The rest of the photographs were worse.  Many of them included bath scenes with even more titillating bits; though said bits were usually covered with some strategic steam.  One such picture included Ranma sitting on the bath stool, scrubbing herself clean; Akane was in the furo already, her forearms resting lightly on the edge of the tub, chin on steepled fingers.  An open, friendly smile was on her face.

The very worst was one in which Ranma was washing Akane's back.  The redhead was obviously blushing, but what was worse was the relaxed expression on Akane's face, that easily translated to some other emotion.  

"Oh, dear _lord_," Sayuri exclaimed.  "Are these doctored?"

Ranma shook her head.

"Yes," Akane swiftly replied.[12]

The redhead frowned, surprised, knowing they were not.  But… well, they _looked_ like they were.  Presuming she hadn't lost her memories of she and Akane shagging like bunnies.

For a moment longer, Akane stared at the photographs.  Ranma was certain she was going to cry, but instead Akane's eyes narrowed and her lip curled.  "Nabiki.  Is.  Going.  To.  Die," she growled softly.

"I have to see _this_," Sayuri giggled.

Ranma was more concerned.  If Akane had put somebody in the hospital the last time she was this angry, it was no laughing matter—especially if Nabiki was the person she was angry with.  Ranma supposed it only made sense—who else would have had the opportunity to take those pictures?—but that didn't mean she wanted the middle Tendo girl decapitated, either.  

Nabiki was already awaiting her sister's return, however, so they didn't have far to look.  "Hiya sis!" Nabiki exclaimed cheerily.

Akane slowly passed the photographs on to her sister, her expression less angry and more cold.  "Care to explain these?" she inquired.

Ranma bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to step in if her friend decided it was time to play punching bag with the older girl.

Nabiki flipped through the photographs with a faint grin on her face.  

Ranma, watching her carefully, noticed when Nabiki's smile began to fade: the fourth picture.  She had to remember that; she'd keep them in the same order and look, later.

"Something you want to tell me about your relationship with your fiancée?" she wanted to know.

Ranma placed a restraining hand on Akane's shoulder.  "There's nothing going on between Akane 'n me," she replied directly.  "Tell me why you took those."

Nabiki's face was suddenly all wide-eyed innocence.  "Dear sister-in-law, I did _not_ take these photographs.  Well—there's this, and this one, too," she corrected, handing Ranma the picture of the pair asleep, and a picture of Akane breaking some bricks, a nice one.  "But as for the rest… I'm afraid we have a rat on our hands."

Akane's position relaxed.  "You mean… you didn't?  You…"  She went from relaxed to boneless, leaning heavily on Ranma's arm.

"Of course not."  Nabiki's sharklike expression softened a bit.  "I may sell pictures of you, Akane, but they're all artist's pieces—not like this filth."

Ranma watched her secretly admire the shots.  The redhead knew they were good, despite Nabiki's pronouncement—steam in all the right places and the innocent nature of two girls bathing placed them outside of porn and into ecchi.  Whoever had taken these knew just how _not_ to get into trouble.  From what she knew of the middle Tendo girl, it sounded just like her.

Nabiki's narrowed eyes were examining _her_, now, as though she had seen directly into Ranma's head and didn't approve.  "Besides," she added, "these were taken with a different kind of camera than any of the ones I have."

Ranma perked up.  "Yeah?"

"Sure," she said carelessly.  "Akane knows I always use Nokias.  I like them.  This was taken with some other beast, a camera for experts if I'm not mistaken."  She tilted her head to one side as she gave them her professional opinion.  "You know, I'll bet Kuno-chan decided he didn't like my prices, Akane, and decided to get some help of his own.  Don't worry—I'll get it out of him."

"Thanks, Nabiki," Yuka replied, patting Akane on the back.

Sayuri pouted, robbed of her confrontation. 

"Come on, Akane, let's go back home," Ranma urged.

Akane stared at the redhead in surprise; while Ranma's brain was wondering why, she suddenly realized she'd called Akane's place home for the first time.

"The school day's not over yet, silly!" she exclaimed.  "It isn't even lunch yet!"

"Oh!"  Ranma squirmed, embarrassed.  "I just… guess it's been awhile since I've matriculated..."

"I know.  Come on—or we'll be late for _third_ period," Akane sighed, dragging Ranma along behind her.

As the girls headed off to their respective classes, Akane dragging Ranma by her braid, Kuno continued to twitch, setting dust from the Founder Sculpture singing into the air.  The small disturbance was enough to cause the granite apple to teeter precariously before landing directly onto his head.

It was not a good day to be the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High.

*********

Ranma sat, leaning her chin into her hands, eyes unfocused.  She hadn't remembered school to be quite this boring.  Of course, that _had_ been at a boy's school, and it had been a great deal more violent—Furinkan was positively pastoral in comparison.

"And thus, the TWO X chromosomes is present in the female, while—"

Honestly—couldn't they teach anything pertinent?[13]

A small piece of paper hit Ranma in the side of the head.  She jumped, turning to face Akane, who was innocently writing in her notebook, her eyes fixed to the blackboard.

Ranma winced.  She didn't have a notebook, or paper, or even a pencil.  She'd come to her first day of school woefully unprepared.  The least she could do was pay attention.

"…thus leaving us a great deal of questions concerning gender," Watakashi-sensei continued.  "Unfortunately, little is definitive on this subject, as scientists have always, in the past, been male themselves.  Maintaining cultural standards has often been the top priority in such supposed scientific experiments.  But why don't you girls tell me what you think?" 

A chorus of giggles from the females in the room sounded and abruptly stopped, through some kind of signal—the nature of which Ranma was not aware.  Maybe girls were supposed to be better at writing and feelings and stuff 'cause they actually all thought _alike_.  Some kind of hive mind.  She considered this briefly, then shook herself.  Then why wasn't _she_ hooked up to it?

Must be something cultural, she decided. [14] 

A boy in front of the redhead raised his hand.  "So you're saying there's no difference at all?"

"I'm saying we don't know the nature of the difference for certain, Hiroshi-san," the sensei replied, shrugging.  "I believe there are differences, but I am not certain, and until I see a study in which women _and_ men are represented in equal numbers on the tallying side, I see no reason to take sides in a possibly endless debate without meaning.  Studies constantly contradict one another, so it seems pointless to pick a side randomly, and dangerously irresponsible to pick one in name of my own gender.  Hikaru," she tacked on suddenly.

A small, pale boy in the back poked his head up from his notebooks, in which he had been furiously scribbling.  "Y-yes ma'am?"

"That report you handed me last week for extra credit.  Can you explain the problem as you explained it to me?"

Hikaru stood, trembling slightly as all eyes in the room turned towards him.  Ranma felt a brief stab of pity.  

"He's brilliant," Akane mouthed behind her hand before turning once again to face the pale boy shaking in the back of the room.

"I mean, Tokyo University did it, but they said it was okay if I took notes…"

Watakashi-sensei nodded encouragingly, but also with a firmness that implied Hikaru best get to the point.

He cleared his throat again; Ranma was getting impatient and her foot tapped on the linoleum softly.  The redhead watched as Hikaru's eyes became locked on her moving ankle.  Ranma realized she was making the boy even more nervous, and forced herself to still.

"W-well, in any case," Hikaru said, more nervous than ever.  "It's like this," he repeated.  "I went and watched and took notes—but the numbers and everything contradicted this other study I'd seen.  It was weird.  I mean, people are people wherever you go, right?"  He swallowed.  "But it was wrong—that was wrong."  He paused, collecting his thoughts.  "The first study took children from different areas, some rich areas and some poor ones," he explained, gaining confidence, his voice almost going like Watakashi-sensei's: businesslike.  "The scientists showed pictures to each group of children, scenes, and asked the kids to put them in order.  Sometimes they asked the kids what they thought would happen next."

Ranma watched Akane and several of the other students nod.  She yawned.

"The inner city kids got it all wrong," the boy continued, now seemingly unaware of the sea of twenty faces paying attention to him.  "They answered incorrectly.  But it wasn't incorrect, not really.  Some of them were gaijin, and had different cultures with different expectations about how people would and should behave, or what people did first after they woke up, like eat breakfast or brush their teeth.  The scientists thought they had proved that inner city kids were stupider—or that gaijin were—but all they really proved was that they're different from other kids.  The other study had a more standardized kind of testing system and even though the inner city kids came out a little bit lower, it was nothing like the first one was."[15]

Watakashi-sensei nodded, her long black hair coming to fall around one shoulder.  "Exactly.  In  a lot of ways, these studies in your book are similar.  This is an old textbook, and I don't want you girls to take it too much to heart."

Ranma flipped back to the beginning of the book.  Several other names preceded hers, all the way back to somebody named Takahashi Rumiko in 1973.[16]  She blinked, not having recognized the age of the book in front of her from the start.

"Having said all of that, and further beating a dead horse…" the sensei sighed, "please read pages twenty through thirty-five tonight, and answer the first ten questions at the back of chapter two.  You may have the rest of the time to yourselves."

"That was more like a sociology lesson," Yuka opined as she immediately made her way to Akane's desk.

Akane tsked.  "Shh.  I like Watakashi-sensei, and if her methods of teaching Biology are a little odd, well then, she fits right in here, doesn't she?"  She crossed her arms over her chest, one eyebrow raised, as though defying anyone to dispute her.

Ranma noticed she did that a lot.

"I thought it was kind of neat, the way she didn't tell us the way we _have_ to think about it," Sayuri added.  "That was cool.  Nobody does that."

"Hikaru was so good today!" Akane added.  "Even when Ranma tapped her foot at him and yawned."

"You _yawned_?" Yuka queried flatly.  "Gos is usually so nervous that he never says a word."

"Think I'll go apologize," Ranma offered, creeping away from Akane's sudden death glare.  She turned to go to the back of the room, where Hikaru was still sitting alone, furiously scribbling in his books.  "Hey," she offered with a slight wave of her fingers.

Hikaru looked up with something like fear in his eyes.  "Do you want something?"

Ranma's lips twisted.  Not the best social skills, this one.  "Just apologizing for tapping my foot, before.  I didn't mean to, it's just that I have problems sitting still sometimes."

"What's the joke?"  Hikaru's small, bloodshot eyes narrowed.

"Hm?" Ranma was used to people assuming odd things about her—she seemed to either attract chaos or carry a healthy cloud of it wherever she went—but she'd never had anybody be instantly suspicious of her, before.  "Is there something funny?"

The boy blinked at her nervously.  "You're—here to apologize for tapping your foot?" he finally echoed timorously.

"Well… yeah.  To be perfectly honest, Akane talked me into it, but I _am_ sorry."  She noticed the pale boy paling even further and leaned closer to him, utterly unaware of what the pose did for her.  "Are… are you okay?" she inquired, thumping him on the back.

In the process of doing so, she noticed Hikaru's drawing was of her.

Well, not solely of her, but of she and Akane sitting next to one another in class, Ranma obviously daydreaming, Akane looking at the redhead with a combination of exasperation and fond amusement.  Those aspects of the picture were not entirely what caught her eye, however.  

Even to Ranma's untrained senses, there was something amazing about Hikaru's art.  Every line seemed to draw the eye to Akane, every arc of the pen.  Ranma was presented as lovely, but Akane seemed to be some kind of goddess tethered to earth, each feature slightly more beautiful than it was in actuality.  The result was a girl who was obviously Akane and yet obviously not.  Other than the two girls and their desks, the rest of the background faded into casual blobs of ready nothingness.[17]

Ranma's blue eyes flickered up to the other boy's.  Hikaru's were wide with fear, and he instinctively cringed.  Ranma supposed she must look furious.  She spun on her heel, sitting down into her own desk with a plop, arms crossed.

"What is it?" Akane inquired.

"Your boy Hikaru.  He's an utter pervert!" Ranma groused.  That any guy could think of her that way was far beyond disturbing.  Sure, she'd noticed she was pretty, and she'd seen a couple of Chinese villagers look at her once, but it was always the kind of thing she could ignore.  How could he draw her that way, so… so idealized, like a demure _girl_ or something?!  And Akane!  Akane would throw up if she heard about this!

Ranma turned to glare at Hikaru, but saw that he was too far gone to care.  Head in his hands, he was ignoring the outside world entirely.

*************

Akane began to walk, swinging her case back and forth cheerily.  A sweet smile was on her face, the kind that Ranma found herself increasingly attempting to ignore.  It wasn't like she was so cute, or anything, or even especially pretty.

A smile and a wave as Yuka and Sayuri broke off from their little group, and Ranma found herself entranced again.  Well, okay, she was pretty—when she smiled.  But plenty of girls were pretty, and yet managed to go through high school without beating upwards of thirty boys a day.  What was it that Akane had that made her so special?

It had to be that stupid Kuno-baka's pronouncement, she decided, ignoring Akane for the moment.  As the two neared Tofu-sensei's clinic, Ranma sighed.  Even though things had calmed lately, it also seemed like things were suddenly a great deal more complicated.  She found her mind flipping back on a seemingly endless repeat between Kuno, Akane, and the odd behavior of Hikaru.

Tofu-sensei greeted them, along with a wildly happy Joi, who leapt up practically into Ranma's arms the moment he sighted her.  What they were surprised about was the third voice sounding from inside the clinic.

"Is Nabiki hurt?"  Akane slipped abruptly out of her own private ponderings and raced inside, obviously utterly forgetting that she had intended to do her older sister harm herself just hours earlier.

"Nothing like that, Akane," Tofu announced calmingly.  "Nabiki was just wondering if she could work here as an assistant.  I assured her that she has a job with me whenever she wants one, of course.  Mrs. Santomaya helps me out when she can, but she's getting on in years."

Akane blinked at Ranma.  "Huh?"  Joi turned his attention to Akane, now, barking happily.  She knelt to scratch behind his ears.

Nabiki wandered out, a clipboard in her hands.  "So you said you wanted the pink forms where?" she inquired, then looked up, noticing Akane and Ranma for the first time.

Ranma wasn't quite sure what happened then—another girl thing, she was sure, something she wasn't meant to understand—but Akane's eyes were suddenly bright again, and Nabiki's cheeks were hot.  The older girl quickly averted her eyes, mumbling something with the word 'bills' in it, and Akane proceeded to look even more miserable, her eyes now trained on Joi.

With a dawning discomfort, the redhead began to understand.  It was because of her arrival that this had all started.  Obviously the Tendo family couldn't afford to have her stay with them.  Why hadn't she figured this out?  Her mind quickly rationalized that she'd never had to take care of a place in her entire life, nor had she grown up knowing what it was to live normally day-to-day.

"The pink ones go in the second file cabinet on the left side of the desk," Tofu-sensei replied, giving Nabiki the escape she so obviously desired.  Ranma's opinion of the other man jumped up a couple of notches as she watched Nabiki's blush quietly fade.

"Sure, doctor," she replied.  "Thanks."

Ranma didn't know much about girl stuff, but she did know about honor.  "Hey, doctor," she inquired, tugging on his sleeve.

"Hm?"  Tofu turned to look at Ranma, his kind, mild features set as neutral as they would go.

"You don't suppose I could work here, instead?" Ranma offered, her eyes darting back and forth as she wondered whether she was really doing the right thing.  "I mean, I'm the reason the Tendos have new expenses, me and my dad.  And I'm not even marrying Akane.  As you can see," she finished.

"I have no objections, but you'll have to see what Nabiki says, I'm sure," the doctor replied.

Ranma marched into the back room peremptorily.  "Hey, Nabiki-san.  Is it okay if I work here instead?"

"What do you mean, Ranma?" Nabiki had an impatient tone to her voice, but her eyes searched the other girl's, as though she intended to extract the secrets of Ranma's motivations through the force of her gaze alone.[18]

"Well—I'm the reason you're in a fix—" Ranma began.

"No you're not," Nabiki said, cutting the redhead off with a wave of her hand.  "We were in a fix long before you came along, Ranma—the last thing I want is some girl deciding she's responsible for our problems…"

Ranma's jaw firmed.  "I _am_—partially.  Besides, I'd feel—wrong—about staying with your family and not helping out a little.  And—don't you have a—thing—that you do?  Photographs?"

A little twitch at Nabiki's lips indicated Ranma had underestimated her.  "Yeah.  A little thing with photographs," she replied, suddenly amused again.

Ranma nodded.  "Then it's settled."  

**************

Kasumi fed Ranma dinner and listened politely while Akane ranted about what, in her mind, had been a terrible day.  The redhead found herself copying the way Akane was eating—Akane was hungry and ate quickly, but she didn't get a speck of rice on her cheeks or in her hair.  Neither did Ranma.

Akane and Ranma brushed their teeth side-by-side, did their homework; Akane made casual comments or raised a cool eyebrow if there happened to be a kanji on Ranma's notes that she could not read.  They watched some programs and joked about the bad plots on T.V. 

When it was very dark and they were very tired they bathed and went to bed.  Ranma stared at the ceiling.  Her life was _Normal_.

Normal.  Genma would have made it seem like a dirty word—he lived to travel, to wander earth, toughening himself up; he lived for ancient techniques and new experiences.  But Ranma was finding she enjoyed this normalcy.  After all, it was new to _her_.

In just over twenty-four hours.  Twenty-four hours…

A best friend, asleep beside her.  Her dog curled up near the side of the bed on a warm rug.  School.  A part-time job.

A house, moreover, and a bed to sleep in at all.  No more cold rocks, no more cold ground.  A warm arm draped lazily across her waist.

"You okay?"  Sleepily.

Somebody to ask her if she was okay.  Somebody willing.  "Yeah, Akane."

In just over twenty-four hours, her life had been turned on its head.

  


* * *

[1] And thus Ranma once again demonstrated her unrivaled ability to assimilate new techniques and add them to her own repertoire.

[2] As well as several dozen pieces of crockery, fifty utensils that were bent beyond any hope of future use, and a Hibiki.

[3] Mice.  Of course.

[4] Or people he knows very well, really.

[5] And, knowing Kuno's usually infinitesimal level of sanity, perhaps he himself was not aware.

[6] "Feh."

[7] Some people appear a bit confused about this.  It's a joke, and one shouldn't explain 'em… but… sigh  A headhunter is a businessperson who hires people for many different firms.  Akane is aware of this other definition—Ranma is not.  There.  I have said my piece…

[8] Apologies to Deborah Goldsmith, author of the Genma's Daughter stories... 'Ran' is usually interpreted as meaning 'wild'.  'Ma' can mean 'horse' or 'orchid', depending on the character used.  The teacher, seeing Ranma is a girl, assumes that Ranma's name means 'wildflower' instead of 'wild horse'.  

[9] Kirimeter points—Hint: It's from the same place as before.

[10] Alright, so I wouldn't be saying this unless there were rabid fans out there, but there are.  I am fully aware that Ranma-**kun **does not come to a rest exactly between Akane's legs.  However, Ranma-onna is less massive and we all know that d=vit + 1/2at2, and that 'a' is dependent on mass.  Okay, so we don't but it's true.

[11] Actually it's Principal Kuno in the anime.

[12] …having lived with Nabiki for far too long…

[13] You can lead a horse to water…

[14] Nope.  It's a hive mind.  Bzzz.

[15] Yeah, that is indeed a real study.

[16] …and she was indeed sixteen in that year.

[17] As opposed to backgrounds that are often unprepared.  I have no idea why I used that word… sigh  Okay, so it's late…

[18] And, being Nabiki, she probably could.


	3. Poison

CHAPTER THREE: Poison

"Apparently, he still didn't get your meaning," Nabiki said dryly the next morning, handing Ranma a small slip of paper.

"Hm?  What is it, Ranma-chan?" Kasumi inquired.

"For Ranma Saotome," Ranma read casually.  "Whee, I've an enemy."  Joi sniffed curiously at the piece of paper in Ranma's hands, then backed away, sneezing.  It was scented with some kind of rose perfume, Ranma decided.

"Ranma, don't take the upperclassman so lightly.  He got in a couple of punches last time, and now he knows how you fight."  Akane was crossing her arms over her chest, that infuriatingly stubborn look on her face.

"I was distracted, the last time," Ranma countered, crossing her arms over her chest in unconscious parody.

"Right you were," Akane replied, agreeing.  "And you might be again.  Just be on your guard!"

"I will, I will," Ranma hissed.  "Geez!"

Nabiki bit into a small pastry.  "You two do stuff the oddest ways," she commented lazily.  "Hey Kasumi.  Is this how it sounded to you?"  Nabiki put on a lighter, more feminine voice, mimicking Akane.  " 'Ranma, the last time Kuno almost hurt you.  It had me worried.'"  Her voice dropped, and she used male speech, mimicking Ranma.  " 'Yes, Akane—I was worried, too… about _you_.'"   

"My goodness, Nabiki," Kasumi offered, putting one hand to her lips.  "Did you have to be so… accurate?"  The two sisters giggled as Akane and Ranma blushed.

"Waaah!" Soun exclaimed.  "My little girl is worried over her… her…"

"Well, I _am_ worried!" Akane said, seeing as how admitting this would be the only way to stop her father from attempting to complete that sentence.  "Just be careful."

Ranma nodded.  "Yeah—okay, Akane.  I promise."

Akane's smile could have lit the room.  Despite Nabiki's teasing, the middle girl's eyes widened, then traveled from Akane's obvious happiness to Ranma's just as obvious accepting blush.  She blinked, wondering if she was simply imagining something that wasn't there.

Ranma strode to the appointed place, her hair bound tightly behind her, her clothing secure and unhindering, Joi nervously following.  _Will he rush me_? she wondered staring out at Kuno, who looked as ready as she and twice as grim.  Then she noticed something that made her start.  First of all, Kuno was hiding something behind his back; second of all, his bokken was missing.

An only mildly observant person would have made the seemingly obvious connection, but Ranma noticed the way Kuno was holding himself.  If Kuno were holding his blade she would be able to see its tip behind him and to his left.  She could not.

"Decided to leave your sword out of the picture today?" she inquired archly.  Her hands were placed on her hips.

"Sometimes more of a hindrance than a help," he replied gravely.  He moved his arms in front of him slowly.

"I'm ready," Ranma announced, sliding her left leg back and giving him a cold stare.

When Kuno brought his hands forward, it was to place them in front of his body, palms up, offering something to Ranma.  For a moment, her eyes couldn't figure out what it was.  She blinked several times, running her finger on the broken edge of the wood resting on his upturned palms.  A drop of blood beaded on her finger.  With a small gasp, she pulled her hand to her chest, seeking to protect the wound.

"You have me," he said simply.

The two broken pieces of bokken fell to the dirt with a small clatter at the redhead's feet. 

"I always went easy on Tendo Akane," he added, his voice slightly urgent as though it was important she know this.  "Until that one day I must have angered her beyond reason.  I knew she was not as good as I—I always knew.  And yet, when the time came that I truly needed to protect myself, I stretched my skills above her to find that nothing was there."

Ranma blinked at him.  "H-hey, you don't need to tell me—"

The young man continued obliviously.  "She had gotten better, of course, while I had maintained myself at precisely the same level as before.  A foolish mistake, not worthy of the Great… of me."  His eyes finally met Ranma's.  

"I managed to do it again," he replied, ignoring her protests.  "Another foolish mistake.  I convinced myself, whilst bedridden, that some outside force had tampered in the battle—that no one could truly best the Blue Thunder without some kind of help…  But you are the second, Saotome Ranma, and indubitably not the last.  Moreover, you did it easily.  If the lovely Akane had not distracted you…" he paused as though the thought pained him.  "…It would have been over far more quickly."

Kuno lowered himself until he knelt in front of her.  "My life is yours, Saotome Ranma, to do with what you will.  Though your clothing does not betoken a noble lineage, your face, your well-defined features, and your indomitable spirit speaketh more truly.  The house of Kuno is not ashamed to kneel before such a one."

Ranma's breath quickened with something like sheer panic, and she glanced at Joi in sheer incredulity.  Upperclassman Kuno kneeling on his broken sword before her was not exactly what she had expected when she'd come.  She gulped.  "Wh-what about Akane?  Shouldn't you be offering your life to her?"

"I am forbidden to speak with the goddess Akane," he replied simply, "having lost the fight for her honor."  

Ranma wanted to hit herself.  "Of course," she said, and even she could hear the panic rising in her voice and feel the blush heating her face.  _What now_?  "What is it you're offering me, Kuno?"

"It is not a business deal," he replied softly.  "What you have, you have whether you wish it or no.  My life, my services as a samurai."

Ranma finally did the only thing she could think of.  "Er, Kuno… you said I only _look_ like a lady, right?"

He nodded, viewing her curiously.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say next," she confided sotto voce.  "Men don't usually pop out of the woodwork and offer their lives to me."

Tatewaki Kuno had the grace to appear amazed.  "They don't?"

For the first time (but not the last) Ranma wondered whether Kuno realized his behavior was out of the ordinary.  "No," she replied, somewhat more curtly.

He replied, still speaking in the half-whisper with which Ranma had introduced this topic.  "You thank me for my great sacrifice and take me into your service," he replied, as though giving instructions to a bit-part actress who'd forgotten her one line on opening night.

Feeling a bit silly, Ranma sighed.  "Well—okay."  She straightened her shoulders; Saotome Ranma always did things the right way when she could.  "Kuno…"  She paused again.  "What's your first name?" she inquired.

"Tatewaki."

"Kuno Tatewaki," she intoned.  "I thank you for your great sacrifice and take you into my service."  In a burst of inspiration, she added,  "you will be expected to do the following: help me out if I ask, and not bother Tendo Akane unless she says she wishes it and not before.  Er… rise."

He did so.

"Are you sworn to do whatever I say?" Ranma inquired.

Tatewaki Kuno nodded proudly.

"Hop on one foot," Ranma ordered.

He grimaced, but he hopped.

Joi blinked up at Ranma, then swung his curious gaze to Tatewaki Kuno.  He barked in confusion, his eyes following the kendoist's movement, his nose sniffing the air.  

  
"Just checking.  Well—alright, then," the redhead replied, as though something had been settled for the best.  "See you tomorrow.  Oh, and—wear more normal-looking clothing, okay?  I mean, I know I wear some loose stuff but that's for a reason.  That hakama just gets in your way when you fight and looks silly besides."

  
Kuno nodded as though he had just received orders in war, and strode off.

  
Ranma shrugged to herself, then picked up Kuno's pieces of splintered bokken, popping her finger in her mouth to suck the blood away.

  
Kuno seemed the excitable type; likely he'd forget this fealty thing by tomorrow.

Ryoga pushed a small branch out of his way, moving with increased difficulty.  Whoever had put this large forest in the middle of Tokyo was going to be very, very sorry, he vowed.  Taking a deep breath, he moved on, revenge at the burning core of him, sustaining him, keeping him strong for his trek.

Darkness pulled at the edges of his vision and he was combating his desire to sleep with his desire to go and settle his grudge with Ranma, when a sudden noise behind him made him halt cautiously.  Ryoga brought his combat umbrella to bear, just in case.  The perennially lost boy frowned, straining to hear another noise, but sighed when nothing came.

Just another forest animal…

…forest animal…?

Ryoga concentrated again.  The forest had fallen utterly silent.  Cricket's cree-creeing had halted as though a conductor had cut off the sound with a sharp movement of his hand.  Nothing moved, not even the wind.  All he could hear was his own suddenly labored breath.  

He placed his pack down and began to edge discreetly for a very high tree.  Bears could climb them, of course, provided the tree managed to support them—but at least Ryoga could expect attack from only one direction.  Slowly he turned to face the tree.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up after a brief encounter with an English oak.

And what was one of those doing in Tokyo proper? Ryoga wondered, pulling himself to his feet.  Whatever had thrown him was large and fast.  He kept his back to the tree behind him.  "Show yourself!" he classically demanded.

The villain classically refused, but it had to close in eventually, just to strike.  When it did, Ryoga was ready for it.

The Lost Boy's readiness did not matter.  The large beast in front of him was, in fact, utterly indifferent to it.  It stood, drooling, on four massive legs, each the size of a seventy-year-old tree, similarly knarled and colored.  Its body was compact in comparison, heavy like an elephant's, but with nothing like a mastodon's face.  The face of the animal looked like some kind of mad dog gone wrong; teeth stuck out at odd angles in various sizes.  It had a flat snout and its eyes were yellow and mean.

It gave Ryoga the courtesy of the time it took to process those facts before once again hurling him bodily into another tree.

He slid down, cursing weakly.  Ryoga was in bad shape.  He hadn't eaten in three days or slept in two, and he'd just been smashed against a large, heavy object.  Twice.[1]  He was in bad shape, seeing two of the monster and not certain which was the real one.  Still, he was Ryoga Hibiki, and that meant not giving up in spite of, or perhaps because of, the odds.  He brought his umbrella woozily to bear.

Ryoga looked down at his hands and made the connection in his brain—very difficult at this point—that the umbrella had come flying from his hands in his last confrontation with a tree.  Shaking his head bitterly, he raised his fists instead.  The monster appeared to be resolving into one, and this spoke well for both Ryoga's endurance and strength of will.

The beast rushed him boldly— a mistake, as far as Ryoga was concerned.  It received a punch to the nose for its trouble, and Ryoga danced away again, still keeping the tree to his back; no way to tell if these things hunted in packs, and he'd hate to have this opponent's friends show.  

The monster was slow work to kill, but so was Ryoga.  A punch here—a successful eye jab—and the monster looked about ready to limp off after easier prey.  Then, in a sudden lunge it came for him, scoring his side with large, yellow teeth.

Ryoga held a hand over the blood rushing from his wound, gasping through pain and fighting for consciousness.  Everything was going dim—and he could not allow that—

The dog-beast moved for one, last, desperate attempt to overwhelm its enemy, loping to Ryoga with a wicked blood-filled grin.

Ryoga returned it, battle singing in his veins, chuckling as he felt his own blood run rapidly through his fingers.  A final gearing up, a final punch, a final launch into the air…

He gasped triumphantly, then blinked.  How had he ended up looking at the stars like this?  He didn't remember lying down; that was funny.  No, but he needed to get up.  He had a good reason, too, if only he could remember what it was, or what he was doing on the cold ground.

There was somebody he was looking for—that was it.  Somebody who he needed to see.  That didn't sound quite right, but it was close enough—more than enough to launch somebody as stubborn as Hibiki Ryoga onto his feet.  And if launch was too strong a word—if raise or stand or perhaps crawl was strictly more accurate—then this author is willing to overlook the matter.

But the time always comes when one cannot overlook such inconsequentials.  When one has to face death and note that it is coming.

Fast.

Ranma had dreams that night.  She was facing a dark, cold, lonely plain.  She could see one indistinct figure on the other side, but it was impossible to tell who it was from that distance.  Ranma looked down, surprised.  Other than the recurring nightmares she had about falling into the Nannichuan, this was the first time she'd ever dreamed herself as a girl.

Just as she looked down, she realized how silly she'd been to think she was in a field; she was sitting on top of the teacher's desk, facing her students, one leg crossed demurely on top of the other.  "Now, minna-san," she said in a calm, feminine voice.  "Can anybody tell me what we have here?" she inquired, gesturing to herself with a giggle.

Akane raised her hand.  "A person with two X chromosomes?" she inquired.

"Don't be silly!  Next!" Ranma commanded, picking Hikaru out of the crowd.  He was the only one not raising his hand.  Honestly, if she didn't pick on him, he'd never say a word.

"An incredibly hot girl I want to have lots of sex with," he offered quietly.

"We're getting warmer," Ranma replied.  "Anybody else?  Kuno!"

Tatewaki bowed.  "My lady," he answered confidently.

Ranma sighed.  "I'm afraid you're quite far off the mark there, dear," she replied with the air of someone having gone over the same lesson countless times.  She re-crossed her legs.  "Can't anybody come to a conclusion here?" she demanded.  "Yes?  You, the bald man in the back!"

Genma stood and bowed.  "A martial artist and my son."

The entire class laughed at that one, Ranma hardest of all.  "Hardly!" she giggled.  She cupped her breasts with her hands.  "Even Akane's more right than you!"

Akane fumed.

Sayuri and Yuka spoke up together.  "A nice girl!" they exclaimed.

"What's that?" Ranma inquired, a teacher asking for a definition.

The two girls fell silent and shrugged.  "Somebody who does what they're told," Akane answered, her voice stubborn and flat, "which makes _you_ unqualified."

Ranma smiled at her, knowing she was simply stinging from her incorrect answer, before.  "Why don't you give it another try, Akane?" she inquired solicitously.

She was sitting next to Akane under a tree with spreading branches.  "Why don't you give it another try?"  She realized she was offering Akane a bento.

The dark-haired girl blinked, seeming as surprised about the change of scene as Ranma herself.  "Where are we _now_?" she demanded.

"This is how it goes," Ranma informed her, trying to forestall any outburst.  "Just try the lunch, okay?"

Akane opened the bento cautiously.  "Looks okay from the outside," she offered, "but sometimes that's the most deadly."

"What do you think it is?" Ranma inquired, trying to keep her own temper from showing.

"What did you put in it?" Akane demanded.  "Poison?  I'm allergic to some stuff, you know."

"I dunno.  My dad made it."

"Your mom help?"

"Not really.  Not since I was five, anyway."[2]

Akane wrinkled her nose.  "And you're giving it to me?"

The redhead found herself very embarrassed for some reason.  "Try it, first."

Akane took a small bite.  "Wow, Ranma—it's _is_ good.  Guess sometimes the ends justify the means, huh?"

A cat strode through the background for a moment, but when Ranma blinked, it was gone.

"Y-yeah," Ranma replied, a little confused as to what that had to do with anything.  "Yeah, sometimes."

"Mind if I finish it?" Akane inquired.  "It's good, you know," she assured the redhead, as though wondering whether Ranma had already forgotten.

"That's fine," she replied.  "Not very hungry anyways."  She paused to look up at the branches of the trees.  Was something moving?  No—that was her imagination.

Akane's eyes were suddenly bright and hard.  "Are you _certain_ you don't want any for yourself?  It _is_ yours, you know."

"Akane—are there any cats in the trees?"

"Of course not—then they can't climb down.  There are cats everyplace else," she finished calmly, swallowing the last bit of lunch.

Ranma gazed at Akane in horror, only now realizing exactly how hungry she really was.

"Come, now, Ranma," Akane chided her.  "You did give it to me to keep, after all."

"If there aren't any cats in the tree, shouldn't I be up there?" Ranma demanded, her voice beginning to show traces of panic.

"Gosh, Ranma, we're all cats down here," Akane replied conversationally.  "Didn't you know that?"  She began to lick her hands clean methodically.  All around her the cats appeared, eyes glowing in sudden darkness.

Ranma backed away from Akane slowly and carefully, trying not to lose it entirely.  How could she have not noticed something that blindingly evident?!  Of course!  It seemed so clear now… they were everyplace, obviously, obviously…  As they closed in on her, Ranma felt her sanity begin to slip…

"Ranma?  Ranma?  Ranma!!"

Ranma sat up and screamed bloody murder, banging her head on Akane's.  The dark-haired girl had been leaning over her, trying to shake her awake.

With every moment Ranma continued to scream, Akane felt herself become more panicked in response.  "S-stop!  Ranma!"

Ranma paused to gather a deep breath and began to scream again.

Tripping over Joi (again) Akane stumbled over to her doorway and flicked her lights on.  The redhead was just beginning to look around as though realizing that she was now awake.  Her eyes lit on Akane and she scrabbled away wildly, ending up in the corner but still seated on Akane's bed.

The dark-haired girl paused, hurt in her eyes but willing to hold her ground until the wild look in Ranma's eyes eased.

Nabiki and Kasumi spilled into the room.  "W-what?" Nabiki demanded incoherently.

Kasumi viewed the huddled form of Ranma and gasped.  "Oh dear!  Ranma-chan, are you alright?"

Ranma was holding her hands in front of her, blinking dazedly as though she didn't recognize herself.  Then, very slowly, she raised her eyes to examine each of the Tendo girls in turn.  "Akane?"

Akane took a deep breath, filled with relief, before flinging herself onto the bed and drawing Ranma into her embrace.

In a moment, there were four girls sitting on the bed.  Nabiki, half-asleep but still needed, was propped up by Akane and Ranma's bodies.  Kasumi was leaning in from the other side, her longer arms encircling all of the girls tightly.  Joi came close to the bed and sorrowfully rested his nose on Kasumi's bare foot.

In this small cocoon, Ranma slowly came to herself, realized that she had been sobbing for quite awhile now, felt ashamed, wished she could stop, could not.  The dream kept twisting around in her brain, but the only thing she could place was something… something to do with cats…

Not being able to remember was the worst part.  The redhead felt a creeping, eerie fear enclose her heart and squeeze.  Slowly she came to a halt, from sobs to tears, from tears to sniffles, and from sniffles to hiccoughs.

"Water," Nabiki mumbled, and shuffled off to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," Ranma said quickly.

"_I'm_ sorry!" Kasumi returned.  "Are you alright, dear?  Are you hurt?"

Ranma shook her head, tears starting again, running down her cheeks.  She wiped them away, too raw and emotional to even know why Kasumi's statement had started her off again.  She shook her head quietly, not trusting herself to speak in a clear voice—or, for that matter, make sense if she managed to hold her tone steady.  "Nightmare," she finally whispered, and hiccoughed.

Nabiki reappeared, placing water in Ranma's grasp.  She made sure both of Ranma's shaking hands were on the cup before letting go.  The redhead swallowed several times past the large lump in her throat.

Soun Tendo poked his head inside the bedroom, the family shinai in his hands.

"It's alright, father," Kasumi said, her voice still in a whisper.  She still managed to sound as though she'd been awake for hours.  

He nodded, offered a sympathetic glance to Ranma and shut the door quietly behind him.

Ranma slowly drank her water, gradually becoming aware that Akane's grip was making it hard for her to breathe, that Kasumi had a gentle hand on her upper leg and was stroking her calmly like a frightened, wild beast, that Nabiki was regarding her somberly, now more awake than perhaps Ranma had ever seen her before.

"Some nightmare," the middle Tendo daughter commented, and for some reason, that prompted a harsh chuckle from the redhead.

"Yeah."

"And Akane, honey, you're strangling your fiancée."

Akane let up slightly.  "Sorry, Ranma."  

The ache of her arms eased, but the redhead almost wished she'd continued on.  Sure, she would have died of asphyxiation—but what a way to go.  Slowly, Ranma leaned back, letting Akane hold her more gently in her arms.

"Come on, Ranma-chan," Kasumi advised gently, pulling Ranma to her feet.  "Why don't I draw us all a hot bath.  I'm certain I couldn't go back to sleep, now; Nabiki?"

Nabiki shook her head, and Ranma noticed with a small amount of distraction how Nabiki's right hand kept making small movements, almost twitches.  Quite calmly, she wondered whether Nabiki was pondering helping her down the hallway with said appendage or was regretting the absence of her camera.

"A bath sounds like just the thing," Akane replied, her voice full of relief for her older sister's knack at making people feel comfortable.  "I'll get that special bubble bath you gave me," she offered.

Kasumi nodded.

"I have some liquor," Nabiki added.

Both Ranma and Akane blinked in surprise, but Kasumi nodded gratefully.  "Just the thing."

Ranma's series of shocks were catching up with her.  Apparently Akane had managed to forget that Ranma was not a natural girl—hell, she herself had managed to forget that too, enough to think that a hot bath sounded like a fabulous idea.  Blinking, she came a bit more to herself, still mechanically drinking her water.

Kasumi went off to draw the bath while Nabiki went off in search of some seriously strong stuff; Akane searched for her bubble bath in her room, digging through her chest of drawers.  

Ranma's mind raced, but it was still slow from terror.  A building nightmare began to play itself in Ranma's mind again, this one all too real.  Nabiki and Kasumi throwing her out into the night in her male form, throwing things at her, calling her a pervert.  Akane standing at the back door, looking despondent but resigned.

And it seemed all the redhead could manage to do was sit wrapped in Akane's blanket, wisps of hair coming undone from her braid, her bare feet sticking out, while this scenario ran in her mind over and over with interesting little variations.  In some, she died by seppuku or by the hands of one of the Tendo girls.  In some, Akane renounced her rather than live with her family's recriminations.

Ranma blinked as Akane literally pulled her off of the bed and carried her, plopping the bath salts into Ranma's lap as though she did this every day.  Joi yipped, startled by this new development.  "Don't worry, Ranma, it'll be okay," Akane said, and she used that same impossible-not-to-trust voice she'd given the redhead that very first day, when she said she'd believed.

Ranma sighed, tension suddenly leaving her, her head relaxing almost bonelessly against Akane's shoulder.  A tiny part of her managed to be surprised that she trusted the other girl this much when she was so scared out of her mind.

Akane set Ranma down inside the bathroom, handing Kasumi the bath salts that had gone rolling across the cold tiles.  Akane lit some small candles and began to disrobe.  "Oh… Kasumi?"

"Hm?"  Ranma noticed that Kasumi was keeping a close eye on her, despite the older girl's apparent calm and apparent attention to Akane's question.

"You know how Ranma was raised as a boy, don't you?" she inquired softly.  When Kasumi nodded, she continued.  "She's still very embarrassed about seeing other girls and about being seen _by_ them… I think the light, and the hot water, and our company will relax her, but perhaps we should all close our eyes."

Kasumi's voice lowered even further, but Ranma wasn't so out of it that she didn't hear.  "Akane, that's just what I was talking to you about earlier.  Ranma must get over these things if she ever wishes to be a normal young woman, like you."

Akane snorted, then considered her response.  "Maybe," she conceded.  "But tonight's not the time to push."

Kasumi stole a look at Ranma and nodded.  She closed her eyes, beginning to undress from feel.  Akane did the same, before winking at Ranma.

The redhead's eyes flooded again, again for no seemingly discernible reason.

Nabiki entered and began watching her sisters disrobe while blind.  "A new game?" she inquired dryly.  Then her eyes narrowed shrewdly.  "Ranma was raised as a boy…"

Akane nodded, and Nabiki gamely closed her eyes.  The three of them stepped into the tub by feel and waited for Ranma.

Ranma didn't close her eyes at first, merely turning her back, disrobing.  She kept her eyes at half-mast in order to see her feet, then stepped into the vacant space of water the girls had left for her.  She sighed deeply as she submerged herself, eyes closed, hoping vaguely that no one's hands would wander by accident.

Each of the Tendos sighed, too, one after the other, none giving any indication that Ranma's near fit had put them out.  Even Nabiki, whom Ranma had begun to perceive as somewhat selfish (pictures of her sister indeed!) didn't say anything about being woken in the middle of the night to tend to her.

As each of the sisters seemed inclined to simply lie there without speaking, Ranma began to relax his muscles, began to lessen his fears.

"What was it about, Ranma?"

With his eyes closed, it was difficult to tell which Tendo sister had asked.  They usually had such different _tones_ of voice… but tired sympathy emanated from each one.

Ranma opened his mouth to reply and realized they'd immediately recognize the change in the martial artist's voice.

He cleared his throat…

"You don't have to say if you don't want to, Ranma."

Why couldn't he tell who was who?  He should at least be able to pick out Akane amongst the voices; or perhaps those two comments had been from the other girls.  "Thanks," he whispered.

He blinked, eyes open for a moment, before furiously closing them.  Husky, tear-masked whispers sounded just the same, to a certain point.  He continued.  "Is it okay if I tell you after I get out?"

"Hm," somebody agreed, shifting.  Kasumi—that had been Kasumi for sure.  Ranma was almost sure, anyway.

Akane giggled.  "This is kind of neat.  Blind baths."

A wide grin spread across Ranma's face.  He _did_ recognize her, after all.

"It _is_ a novelty," Nabiki said softly.  Ranma had the sudden impression her eyes were open, and squirmed.

"Would you three mind getting me some things from the market later?" And that had to be Kasumi.

"Nope," Nabiki said.  "What do you need?"

"We're all awake.  Why don't we just go this morning?" Akane queried.  "These shops open early, don't they, Kasumi?"

Kasumi considered, straightening in the bath a bit.  "Certainly—most of the shops I visit open sometime between five and six-thirty.  We could go to the open-air market."

"What time is it?" Nabiki wondered lazily.  "It feels closer to three or four."

"Eyes!" Akane warned, in case Nabiki was feeling like checking.

Ranma let their warm chatter wash over him, like the hot water in the bath.  Once again the oddness of the normalcy struck him: sisters, bathing together, talking about going into market.  As Kasumi chattered about what it was that could be obtained this early in the morning, as Nabiki finally began to stop listening for Ranma's voice, as Akane eased herself into the conversation, Ranma sat back and let himself soak in their presence.  For some reason, it made his chest hurt for a moment, with a sharp, brief little pain.

Slowly, the water cooled, and the sisters helped one another out of the bath, giggling, eyes still pressed shut.  After he was certain all three sisters were out of his way and in no danger of accidentally 'discovering' him, Ranma followed them, his own eyes closed.  Suddenly he felt the shock of cool water falling over his head—Akane, he deduced, saving him again.

A towel was thrust into Ranma's hands.  The redhead moved to wrap it around her waist before shaking her head and raising its level a bit.  She needed to start thinking a _little_ more like a girl, provided she wanted to survive.

"I'm decent," Nabiki announced.  

"Are not," Kasumi chided, playfulness in her voice.

"Nabiki never was," Akane giggled.  "It's okay, Ranma, you can open your eyes."

Ranma's blue eyes flickered open to view three girls, each with a towel tied just above her breasts.  Akane and Kasumi had pinned their hair up against the water, and misty ringlets were forming around Akane's face; she tried not to stare.

"Let's get some clothing and meet downstairs," Kasumi suggested, creaking the bath door open slowly so as not to wake her father or Saotome-san.  Each of the girls crept to her respective room.

Ranma and Akane dressed silently, but Ranma could feel the other girl's eyes on her, making certain she was alright.  She did feel better now, but she didn't relish telling her story to the three sisters.  Something in her shied away from that idea.

Downstairs, Kasumi was pouring herbal tea into four cups.  Nabiki was poring over the stock report, yawning widely.

"It's later than I thought," she announced as the pair descended, flicking her newspaper.  "Nearly five; it's already been delivered."

Akane nudged Ranma and the pair sat down at the table.

As Ranma began speaking, drinking her tea (carefully), she kept her eyes focused on the same watermark on the tabletop.  It made speaking easier, she found, if she couldn't see the reactions of the Tendo sisters.  She spoke in a quiet, even voice, describing the Catfist training in detail, trying not to sound too horrified.

And then she began to talk in an even smaller voice, a whisper really, telling them what she had never even told her father.

The nightmares after the training had been quite understandable, even from Genma's considerably distorted point of view.  The problem was, they had not stopped nor had their intensity faded.  Each one tended to be at least as terrible as the one before it, if not somehow worse; she maintained that they'd been getting better lately, because of her father's insistence that the recurring dreams were womanly.  Announcing a womanly thing to girls who thought her a woman already wasn't half as bad as she thought it'd be.

When she finished her tale, she looked up.  Kasumi's face was white and gaunt, and some of the cheery innocence in her eyes was broken.  Akane had a look of murderous rage on her face; after a moment, she excused herself.

Sounds of destruction and mayhem sounded from the dojo.

Nabiki scooted next to Ranma and wrapped an arm around her waist.  "So you have these dreams, right?" she inquired.  "And if you spend too much time around a cat, you lose it?"

Ranma nodded, looking into Nabiki's brown eyes.

"Honey—you're lucky you're not completely insane," Nabiki announced bluntly.  "I'm proud of you for managing to survive all of that intact in the noggin." 

Kasumi nodded, looking a bit more like her old self.  "That's right, Ranma," she finished softly, but Ranma could tell she was struggling with herself in some way or another, though not with what emotion.  "You're very lucky you turned out as well as you did.  Very lucky," she repeated.

A particularly murderous scream rent the air, followed by a large smashing noise.

"Akane thinks so too," she added, smiling gently.  "I know she likes you very much.  It speaks incredibly well for you that you're… well… not a savage, or something," the eldest Tendo daughter finished inelegantly.  

"Or permanently insane.  Nobody's saying you should be happy you've got these terrible nightmares, but think of being stuck in one for the rest of your life."  Nabiki looked at her seriously.

"Thanks, Nabiki," Ranma said dryly, not sure whether she meant it.  But, well, it sure did put things into perspective.

"Come on, Ranma," Nabiki ordered, pulling the redhead to her feet.  "We're going shopping."

"Hn?"

"I'll get Akane," Kasumi announced, slipping out the back door.

The redhead blinked, surprised.  Somehow she'd expected all three girls to be in tears or turn her away—not this.  Ranma sighed, thinking she'd probably never get girls, period.

Soon the four were ready, Akane wiping her eyes; Ranma pretended not to notice that, or Akane's hand particularly tight inside her own.  Kasumi clutched her shopping bag to her chest, still obviously disturbed.

Outside, the sun was about to rise.  Mist crept along the street in front of the girls like some kind of lazy animal stretching, parting easily in front of them.  The sidewalks were mostly deserted, and Ranma began to get the strange feeling that there were only four people who truly existed in the world.  The water hanging in the air hushed their footfalls.

Maybe water _was_ sentient.  At least, it had sure seemed that way on her trip from China.  She'd never lasted more than a day or so as a boy before some kind of natural accident drenched her in cold water.

"I love this time of morning," Kasumi whispered, her voice in a childlike hush.  "Everything's so fairy tale."

Ranma smiled at her as they walked along.  Kasumi only saw the happy things.  She bit her lip, briefly regretting telling the eldest Tendo girl anything about her own childhood.  

Suddenly, as though it was born of the air around them, an open-air market became distinguishable.  Formless shapes became geometric stalls; shapeless heaps morphed into apples and nuts, piled carelessly atop one another.  Wraithlike figures resolved into farmers, butchers and bakers laying out trays of their wares, early shoppers, and a pair of children chasing one another around and screeching gleefully.

"Kasumi-san!" a voice exclaimed cheerfully.

Kasumi grinned, delighted, to introduce Ranma to a pair of young farmers running a cabbage stall.  "This is Hiako Nobaya and her husband, Umio Nobaya, Ranma.  Minna-san, this is Ranma, the girl I mentioned the other day."

The pair bowed.  "Nice to see a young girl taking an interest in selecting her own ingredients—you don't see that all the time, do you Hiako?" Umio inquired solicitously.

Ranma reddened, but she managed to laugh like she agreed all the same.

"We always buy our cabbage from the Nobayas," Kasumi explained.

"Kasumi-san!"  Another voice came floating out of the mist.

"Excuse me," Kasumi said, bowing to the group.  "Nabiki, will you pay?"

Nabiki blinked at the cabbages in front of her warily, as though she suspected one might bite.  "Akane?"

Akane moved to peer at the vegetables herself, shrugging.  "Aren't all of them good?" she whispered.

Ranma bowed to the couple.  "Excuse me, we're a bunch of modern city girls.  Which ones are best?"  She smiled winningly.

Hiako smiled at her.  "Kasumi usually buys three."  After a brief examination, the young shopkeeper handed Ranma three cabbages—lovely specimens of the breed—and charged Nabiki 152 yen.  "Kini, don't you _dare_!" she cried to one of the little children running wild.  "Excuse me," she pleaded to the girls, palms together.  "Kini, we do not pull our brother by the hair!"

As they strode after Kasumi, Nabiki whispered behind her hand.  "Geez, Ranma, you really know how to turn on the feminine charm."

"I've never seen you do that before," Akane added, looping her arm into the redhead's again.

Ranma chuckled embarrassedly.  "Well…"

"Over here!"  Kasumi waved her hand in the air, beckoning the other girls.

The redhead was introduced to a seemingly endless number of shopkeepers, all of whom proclaimed her a sweet and lovely young lady.  

"What a nice girl," one old bread-seller lady had proclaimed, but something in Ranma bristled.  She still managed a polite but strained smile, however.

Kasumi's woven bag was filling, and Ranma couldn't help but think of the food the eldest girl was about to cook with the greatest anticipation.  Fresh fishes of several different sorts lined the bottom; heavy vegetables like green tomato and onion were next, followed by apples and several kinds of nuts.  At the very top were the three cabbages and some grapes, for snacking.  Each looked and smelled as fresh as Ranma had ever seen any of their ilk, and some were glistening with morning dew.  It was all the redhead could do not to just grab the grapes for herself.

In fact, she was beginning to feel kind of hungry, and was looking forward to breakfast.  Nabiki purloined the grapes out of Kasumi's bag herself, snapping off bits for the other girls to eat, so Ranma's curiosity as to their flavor was satisfied.

The mist lifted now, leaving morning dew on the grass[3] and lifting the sense of the otherworldly away.  People were beginning to wake now—businessmen leaving for work in Tokyo proper joined the very old and the very young on the streets.  They slipped outside carrying briefcases, wearing dark suits and beleaguered expressions, walking with the gait of the half-asleep.  Some women appeared, too, wearing business dresses, some carrying briefcases of their own: businessladies and OL's.[4]  But Ranma noticed that they were few and far between.

The park was utterly deserted, Ranma noted, except for one young mother who was half-asleep herself, sitting on a park bench with one foot resting on the wheel of her baby's carriage; she rocked her heel, moving the carriage back and forth gently.  She looked exhausted, and Ranma wondered briefly how long she'd been there.[5]  The redhead also found herself wondering why so many girls wanted lots of babies, since it was obviously so hard to take care of them.  Maybe it was all hype, she decided, and they never really knew how difficult it was until they tried.

Even now, she heard Kasumi and Akane sigh almost simultaneously, a sound of someday.

As she was looking at the pair with a puzzled expression on her face, Akane made a soft exclamation.  "Do you see _that_?"

Ranma followed the path of the girl's pointing finger and noticed that there was some kind of coat half-hidden under some bushes near the outskirts of the park.  Privately she applauded Akane's observational skills; it was yellow and dark green, and blended nicely.  Still, she wondered why Akane had called their attention to it.

Until it moved.

  


* * *

[1] Plus, it is perhaps important here to note that although Ryoga _is_ tough, he has not yet undergone Cologne's Breaking Point Technique training.  I.E. rocks and other hard objects ought to phase him.  I am quite aware that if this had been latter-day Ryoga, such pittances merely would have irritated him.

[2] Genma took Ranma away from his mother when he was five years old.

[3] And Ranma said to herself… _My goodness, how lovely.. and I don't believe I've ever noticed it before…_

[4] "Office Ladies".  Think someplace between a secretary and a maid.  Lady of choice for married men to dally with.

[5] Boy, I just can't resist those cameos, can I?


	4. Terrible No Good Awful Very Bad Day

CHAPTER FOUR: Terrible No-Good Awful Very Bad Day[1]  
  
  
"Akane, don't," Nabiki cautioned as her younger sister broke out into a jog.  "It's probably just some drunk sleeping it off—"  
  
It was not.  Lying half underneath a bush in the park was a young man, not any older than Akane herself.  Half his shirt was gone, and his right side was scored with large wounds running from his heart to his stomach, yellow and throbbing with infection.  
  
"Kami-sama," Kasumi breathed in a whoosh of released air.  
  
Nabiki was turning a bit pale.  "D-doctor," she murmured.  
  
"Mgggg," replied the young man.  
  
Ranma started.  She didn't think anyone in this kind of condition should be alive, much less able to murmur.  She was about to ask him not to speak—her eyes had flown to his face—  
  
"I know him," she announced suddenly.  
  
"D-doctor!" Nabiki re-asserted.  
  
"Nabiki, please fetch Tofu-sensei," Kasumi ordered.  Released, the middle Tendo girl tore off down the road at a breakneck pace.  
  
"You _know_ him?" Akane demanded.    
  
"Don't you think nine-one-one would be a better idea?" Ranma countered.  
  
Kasumi shook her head.  "That isn't an ordinary wound," she replied softly, dropping to her knees by the injured boy.  Her hands hovered briefly over the scored area.  "These are claw marks.  From poisoned claws."  She pointed out a small black color spiderwebbing from the wound.  "This would be the poison itself," she added grimly.  "No doctor who isn't versed in the magic arts as well as the healing arts would be able to handle such a thing.  Besides—his breathing is steady.  Look."  
  
"You _know_ this _boy_," Akane repeated.  
  
"At least, I think so," Ranma finally answered, her expression puzzled.  Somehow she felt she was used to seeing him with an expression on his face that did not mirror the still, comatose one she saw before her.  Briefly, the boy stirred again, his face moving into a rictus of pain.  "That's it!" she suddenly exclaimed.  "He was at my junior high…  Nice kid, I liked him," she added in a friendly manner.  
  
Kasumi blinked at her, her eyes sliding from the sick boy to Ranma.  "You did?"  
  
"Sure," the redhead replied.  "Yeah, he's lost some weight and I'll be damned if he doesn't look, well, worse off in other ways."  Her eyes traveled to the young man's infected wounds.  "But it's Ryoga Hibiki for sure."  
  
Kasumi nodded.  "It's sheer luck we found him, then," she replied.  "Akane, please check your purse to see if you've got a scissor or a knife.  I'm going to go ask the Nobayas for some antiseptic and some clean cloth; there's no reason to watch this boy suffer while we wait for Doctor Tofu."  
  
Akane nodded, already digging, and Kasumi took off at a run, disappearing around the corner.  
  
Ranma blinked, trying to think of something she could possibly do.  As Akane searched her pocketbook, retrieving her sewing kit, Ranma did what she always did whenever she found herself in a situation she knew nothing about: she examined what was before her.  
  
She'd been right in saying the kid had lost weight; not only did his current bulk not fit her memories of him, but his shirt and pants were noticeably baggy.  His skin was ashen pale and sweaty, and small strands of black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.  Heavy dark circles rested under his eyes, and he was altogether too still, even for a sleeping person.  Ranma considered calling nine-one-one despite Kasumi's insistence that conventional doctors could not help.  
  
Her eyes shied away from it, but Ranma forced herself to consider the wound.  It was indeed poisoned—a snake had bitten Ranma, once—and the poison had apparently had a great deal of time to work.  The black spiderwebs of deadly stuff branched outwards almost two inches away from any part of the wound.  Beyond that it was yellow, then puffy and red.    
  
He'd probably stumbled across something in the wilds that was bigger and meaner than he was, Ranma decided, suddenly remembering Ryoga's problem with finding his way.  
  
As if thinking Ryoga's name had called him awake, the boy's eyes fluttered halfway open.  He murmured something that sounded like a question.  
  
"Hey, it's okay," Akane said, picking up his hand and holding it in her own.  "We called a doctor.  You're going to be fine!"  
  
Ranma nodded, and Ryoga's eyes traveled to her, drawn by the motion of her bobbing head.  She felt the need to say something too, so she added, "Don't worry, Ryoga, okay?"  
  
For a moment it looked like he was trying to smile reassuringly.  Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  
  
"Oh dear," Akane exclaimed, her lips compressing with worry.  
  
Kasumi jogged around the corner.  "I got some rubbing alcohol," she said, sighing.  "It should hurt a great deal, but it was the best I could do for antiseptic.  Clean cloth—someone was selling it."  
  
Akane handed Kasumi a small pair of scissors from her pocketbook sewing kit and the oldest Tendo girl began cutting Ryoga's shirt away from the wound.  Luckily, most of the shirt had been ripped away from the clawmarks long ago, and this took mere seconds.  
  
Kasumi peered doubtfully at the alcohol before pouring some onto a thin, white cloth in her hands.  "Hold him down, please," Kasumi ordered.  
  
Akane gulped, pinning Ryoga's left arm to his side at the shoulder.  Ranma copied her at Ryoga's left.  
  
Wincing in anticipation, Kasumi began to lower her hand to the wound.  
  
"Oneechan!"  
  
Kasumi sighed in relief as Tofu-sensei and Nabiki came running down the mostly deserted street.  "Over here!" she exclaimed, waving one arm in the air.  
  
"Keep in that position, girls," Tofu warned as Akane began to scoot back.  As his patient came into view, Tofu nearly stumbled, mumbling a series of curses that appeared to span several languages.  "It's poison all right," he said quietly.  "Nabiki, please quickly hand me my flashlight."  
  
Ranma now saw that Nabiki had been carrying the doctor's first aid kit in one hand.   
  
Tofu-sensei examined Ryoga's eyes, pulling the lids up.  "Wow."  His face suddenly looked a great deal more relaxed.  "Strong kid.  I think he's going to be okay."  He claimed his case from Nabiki and began to clean the wound very gently with warm water, then with antiseptic.  "I think we're going to have to open the wound, as well," he said regretfully, "give that boy a generalized antidote, and a tonic to help him on his way.  But we should wait until we get to the clinic for all of that.  He's got the time; he's mostly passed out from sheer exhaustion."  
  
All of the girls breathed a sigh of relief, Ranma included.  "He's going to be okay, then?" she inquired.  
  
Tofu-sensei nodded.  "Unless things change drastically—yes," he replied.  Suddenly, he turned to face the eldest Tendo daughter and blinked, as though suddenly realizing she was there.  "W-why, Kasumi!  What a surprise to see you here!"  
  
Nabiki and Akane blinked in concert.  "Oh, no," they declared.  
  
Kasumi giggled.  "Well, doctor—I was coming back from shopping, you see?"  She picked up her bag of groceries and lifted it slightly for analysis.  
  
Nabiki was slowly backing away from Tofu-sensei.  
  
"What's going on?" Ranma whispered to Akane.  
  
Akane sighed heavily.  
  
Meanwhile, Tofu-sensei had accepted Kasumi's groceries as a gift.  "Mmm, meat!  Betty-chan will like this!"  
  
"That's a bit macabre, isn't it, doctor?" Kasumi suggested tartly.  "Besides, I need to use those things to cook dinner."  
  
The doctor began laughing near-hysterically.  "Of course!"  
  
"Oh, _doctor_," Akane chided under her breath disappointedly, as though this happened quite frequently and she was resigned to its consistant occurrence.  
  
"Doctor Tofu!" Ranma demanded, taken aback by how the normally calm man was behaving.  "You've got a patient, you know!"  
  
"Really, Ranma?" he queried.  "Have you injured yourself?  Let me see."  
  
"Not me!" Ranma exclaimed, but it was too late.  Suddenly, her neck was bent at a very strange angle.  "Your _patient_, your _patient_!"  
  
"Ah.  Yes.  That's as may be," Doctor Tofu continued in a slightly chiding tone of voice.  "But you really shouldn't get into these accidents in the first place—" and he bent Ranma's neck one-hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction.  
  
"Doc-tor…" Ranma growled.  "There's a kid on the ground.  Under the bush.  Your patient."  
  
"Hm," Kasumi said, as though something had been suddenly brought to her attention.  "I'll… get these groceries home, shall I?"  
  
Nabiki and Akane nodded profusely and in unison.  Ranma could not nod, since her head was still bent ninety-degrees out of place.    
  
As she turned and moved down the street, Tofu-sensei blinked again.  "Why, Ranma!  What happened to you?"  
  
  
*****-----*****

  
Once Ryoga had been safely settled into Tofu's clinic, Ranma and Akane headed off for school; Nabiki had already jogged off ages ago.  Luckily, it was still relatively early, and they didn't believe they'd be late.  
  
"Talk about eventful!" Akane yawned.  "You don't seem ruffled; is your life _always_ like this?"  
  
Ranma shook her head with a grin.  "No—don't be silly.  It's usually much worse."  
  
Akane returned her smile warmly.  "Yeah; mine, too.  Though I must say, my old school friends don't usually pop up half-dead," she teased.  "That's a new one."  
  
"Old... school..." Ranma said to herself.  "Great.  I've done it again."  
  
The other girl looked at the redhead curiously as she began to beat her forehead with the flat of her hand.  "What?!"  
  
"Dummy!"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Me, not you.  I just told Kasumi and Nabiki that he was from my old junior high.  I went to an all boys' school back then!  If they pass that on to Ryoga..."  
  
Akane blinked at her.  "An all-boys'..."  
  
"What?"  Ranma harrumphed under her breath.  "Back then I was a boy, you know!  Three-hundred and sixty-five days a year!"  
  
"I know, I know," Akane mumbled.  "It's just hard for me to remember that, sometimes."  
  
"Hmph."  Ranma raised one eyebrow.  "Maybe I should spend tomorrow as a boy, just to remind you."  
  
"Don't be silly!" Akane urged airily.  "You'd miss school!"  Waiting for Ranma's reaction, she missed what was in front of the pair and only caught the faintly shocked expression on Ranma's face.  "What?!"  
  
The redhead blinked, then blinked again.  She'd heard about Akane's... suitors... but this was utterly ridiculous!  
  
Over thirty young men garbed in various sporting equipment were charging across the courtyard, screaming out their love.  Akane gulped, looking doubtful, and suddenly Ranma realized that this had to be the first time she'd faced them since she had broken Kuno like a matchstick.  Obviously she was wondering how her new peaceful attitude would stand up to thirty large boys plus weaponry.  
  
Ranma, for her part, found herself staring at the girl beside her.  She had fought these guys _every day_, ever since she was a _freshman_?!  No way.  _No_ girl was that good.  Why, Akane had to be as strong as a gorilla!  
  
"Don't Akane!" one of the boy's screams rose above the crowd.  "They want to beat you!  But _I _have to be the one!"  
  
"Akane!  Leap into my arms!"  
  
Akane blanched, taking a step back.  Ranma moved in front of her almost instinctively.  "Don't worry, Akane!" she exclaimed.  "I'll protect you!"  
  
"MAKE WAY!"  
  
Ranma and Akane blinked simultaneously in surprise as another figure began to cut through the fighters from behind.    
  


"Who the hell is that?" Akane demanded, trying to peer through the still-approaching fighters.    
  


"Can't tell," Ranma replied.  "Guess I'd better help."  Shrugging, she leapt into the fray, punching left and right.  
  


It was a fabulous challenge, Ranma soon realized.  She was good, of course, better than good—one of the best, in fact.  Yet she'd still never faced this many opponents at once.  Even an inexperienced warrior could manage to strike her in this situation out of something like sheer chance, and Ranma found herself spinning like a top trying to keep track of everyone who was attempting to get beneath her guard.  However, she was the great Saotome Ranma, and soon she faced only one opponent.  When she moved to strike, the man dropped to his knees.  
  
"Kuno!"  
  
She hadn't recognized him at first.  He was wearing a dark blue shirt made of some fine material, and dark grey dress pants.  "You look almost normal," she observed.  
  
"Thou wouldst not strike your retainer, madam, who only sought to aid you in your struggle?" he queried doubtfully.  
  
"And then you open your mouth," Ranma tacked on under her breath.  "Of course not, Sir Kuno," she replied loudly, with utmost gravity.  "Rise."  
  
He did, with a blush.  He bowed silently to Akane, who was gaping in a most unbecoming fashion.  
  
"Meh?" the dark-haired girl managed.  She quickly pulled herself together, though, her brows furrowing in anger.  "Kuno, what the hell is going on?"  
  
Kuno blinked at her mildly, but did not reply.  
  
"Huh?" Ranma inquired.  "Oh... I didn't tell you about this, Akane?  That's funny, I thought I did..." she scratched the back of her neck in mild embarrassment.  
  
"A... a little detail that you... forgot to mention?"  
  
Ranma could not tell whether Akane was about to burst into hysterical laughter or begin screaming at the top of her lungs.  Perhaps the girl's emotions rested someplace between those two extremes.  "Yeah, see, Kuno kinda pledged his life to me.  I figured, you know, the more allies and friends I have, the better."  She leaned in to whisper into Akane's ear.  "Even if those allies are, you know, a little nutzoid."  
  
Kuno, meanwhile, had practically gone into paroxysms of sheer joy.  "Friend?  Nay, I do not aspire to that worthy title—you are my Lady, Ranma."  
  
Ranma winked at Akane.  "See?" she whispered.  "Nuts.  But a Don Quixote kind of nuts, which is sort of sweet if you think about it."  
  
"Sweet?!"  Akane's voice sounded a bit strangled.  
  
Ranma reconsidered the word.  "Well... not... like _that_, or anything..."  
  
"SWEET?"  
  
The redhead blinked and took a step back.  That was obviously not the reason Akane had taken offense, so she tried again.  "Kind of deranged?" she offered.  
  
"IT'S NOT SWEET!" Akane screamed at the top of her lungs.  
  
At least, Ranma _hoped_ that was the top of Akane's lungs.  If Akane's lungs were going to go any higher, they would get a nosebleed.  
  
"KUNO IS NOT _SWEET_!  KUNO IS THE GUY THAT MADE MY LIFE A LIVING HELL EVERY MORNING FOR OVER TWO YEARS!"  
  
It was the first time Ranma had ever seen a full-blown Akane Rage.  Her entire face changed when she did that, Ranma noticed, so that it was barely recognizable.  The girl's body shook with repressed fury.  
  
Just as suddenly, the storm was over.  Akane's expression suddenly saddened, as if she'd thought of something that disturbed her; then she turned on her heel.  
  
"Fine!  Walk the rest of the way with _him_, for all I care!"  
  
And she stomped inside.  
  
"Did you see _that_?!" Ranma breathed, when hurricane Akane had passed out of sight and hearing.  
  
"Did my Lady really say I was sweet?" Kuno inquired.  
  
Ranma let her head rest in a weary hand.  "Listen, Kuno.  You said you'd always thought you were better than Akane, but you were wrong.  Is that right?"  
  
Kuno nodded.  "As it turned out, her skill greatly exceeded my own."  
  
"Is that why you like her?"  
  
"Partially for her strength, yes.  She is a fierce and beautiful tigress, and I long for her greatly."  
  
"Riiight," Ranma drawled.  "And you've known her for awhile, right?"  
  
"It seems I have known the great and lovely Tendo Akane since the first spark of life was breathed into the—"  
  
Ranma cleared her throat meaningfully, in a way she'd once seen a woman do to get her husband's attention.  Surprisingly enough, it worked, cutting Kuno's tangent off before it had a chance to begin.  
  
"Indeed, I have known her for quite some time."  
  
"Do you know why she was angry?"   
  
Kuno shook his head.  "I am afraid... I..."  
  
Ranma blinked.  She couldn't claim to know the guy _very_ well, but it was the first time she'd ever seen him at a loss for words.  "Go on," she suggested gently.  
  
"I..."  He paused again, then spoke rapidly, as though wishing to get the words off his chest for quite some time.  "I am afraid I have never been able to understand her."  
  
Ranma half-smirked.  "Thank you for your candor, Sir Kuno.  That must have hurt."  
  
" 'She has reasons defying reason, but oh, delighting me',"[2] he quoted wryly.  "Part of the allure of Tendo Akane is in the constantly thwarted attempts at comprehending her fiery soul.  May I walk you to class?"  
  
"Hn," Ranma agreed, still needing more.  "So that's why you like Akane?  You want to understand her soul?"  
  
Kuno laughed, sounding surprised.  "Lady Ranma!  A woman is not meant to be _understood_.  A woman should confuse and dazzle a man so—until he scarce trusts his senses.  Women are not for _figuring out_—they are for puzzling over, for wond'ring why they do what they do.  It has always been, and it shall be forever thus.  Though I must say, your kind seem to have less trouble deciphering _ours_..."  
  
"Well, I can't figure _you_, if it's any consolation," Ranma murmured, shaking her head.  The picture Kuno had painted of her best friend was an airy one, showing parts of the whole picture and lacking the essential detail, like a Monet.  And like a Monet, Kuno's vision was all the more beautiful for the lack.  
  
All through class, Akane studiously ignored Ranma.  Ranma was still trying to figure out why she was so angry—busy enough so that she scarcely paid attention all throughout class.  And when she thought that she'd have to ask Akane for the homework, she suddenly remembered the other girl was angry with her all over again, and fought a sad pang.  
  
Yuka and Sayuri didn't say a word, but Ranma could tell that they somehow knew something was up.  Briefly she thought of her hive mind theory again, but she no longer found it even vaguely amusing.  How could Kuno think that trying to figure a girl out was pleasurable?!  She was ready to kill herself by lunch.  
  
Luckily, Nabiki came to her aid.  As Ranma sat under a tree outside (the very tree from her dream, the one near the baseball field) the middle Tendo girl approached her.  "Hey, honey.  How's the world?" she inquired.  
  
Ranma offered her a brave smile.  "The world's as usual: against me.  How are you?"  
  
Nabiki dropped next to her.  "I'll give you some advice for free," she said.  
  
"Do you usually charge?"  The redhead was surprised.  
  
Nabiki's smile flickered, then returned.  "This goes hand-in-hand with my little photography hobby," she informed Ranma.  
  
The other girl blinked.  "Oh."  
  
"You've managed to make Akane very upset," Nabiki observed, "and you won't get far in this school without her help.  Talking to me will make you as liked and appreciated as the Black Plague," she added, "in case you're wondering.  Especially because I'm still smiling at you."  
  
"You have that much of a reputation?"  
  
"And all of it's deserved," the middle Tendo daughter added coolly.  "The only reason you haven't already been deported back to China is because my little sister likes you."  She winked.  "And because, so do I."  
  
Ranma frowned.  She didn't appreciate idle threats, but she actually trusted and liked Nabiki already, so she had no real problem with the girl flexing her power muscles.  But Nabiki had a very bad measure of her if she thought Ranma was interested in 'making it' at Furinkan.  She only wanted Akane's friendship back; she didn't care about popularity or power, or at least not in the way Nabiki was intimating.    
  
"What's the advice, then?  Or can I ask for my own?"  
  
"Sometimes people tend to ask the wrong questions, but go ahead."  
  
"Why's Akane angry with me?" Ranma wanted to know.  
  
"Well... I heard what went on down there, so I can probably tell you—not that it'll do you any good, kiddo.  You just insulted Akane in a bunch of ways."  
  
"Insulted her?"  Ranma blinked in surprise, feeling her frustrations doubled suddenly from false accusation.  "Nabiki, you've got to believe me, I never called Akane any names...!"  
  
Nabiki shook her head, frowning.  "No, no, _insulted_ her.  You can insult someone plenty of ways.  First of all, you and Kuno finished her battle for her."  
  
"But—she said she didn't want to fight anymore!"  
  
"Sure.  But you didn't let her resolve it herself.  Who knows what might have happened if neither of you guys stepped in?  Akane might have learned another way of solving her problems other than with her fists.  Don't give me that look," she ordered as Ranma scowled at her.  "She's _my_ sister, and I _know_ her.  Don't you think I could have stopped the fights far before now?  Akane had gotten used to having her skill in martial arts do all the talking for her.  
  
"It's lucky," Nabiki continued, "that you aren't a boy, or things might have been even worse.  After all this fighting every day, it's not a wonder that Akane experiences disgust at the mere thought of a boy trying to be with her, and two guys thinking they were defending her honor or something... that really would have been the end."  
  
The redhead squirmed, looking pained.  Nabiki knew she had hit a nerve, but had no way of telling which one.  After casting an odd look at the redhead, she shrugged.  "Well, it's obvious she dealt pretty well with that one.  Girl or no, I was surprised she kept her temper.  But then—what on earth possessed you to make friends with Kuno?"  
  
Ranma shook her head.  "He kind of adopted _me_.  I figured I'd better just accept his need to latch on to some girl.  If I didn't do it, he'd be following me around like Joi does when he wants food."  
  
"Well, you've got the measure of Kuno," Nabiki admitted, "but not of my little sister.  Don't you know how that looks?  I know you've been raised as a boy, so I'll spell it out for you.  Girls aren't usually so buddy-buddy with their best friend's worst enemy, _especially_ if their worst enemy happens to be a guy who likes them.  It's one of those unspoken rules."  
  
When Ranma puzzled that out, she frowned.  "I didn't think of it that way."  
  
"Obviously you didn't _think_, period," Nabiki cut in.  "And I'm not done."  
  
"You mean there's more than that?!"  
  
Nabiki merely raised an eyebrow and paused significantly before continuing.  "You neutralized Kuno.  Kuno's superiority complex is his cornerstone, and by removing it you placed him under your control.  Akane's been trying to find a way of stopping him, _any_ way of stopping him, for over two years.  You heard her.  And you managed to do it in a handful of days."  
  
"But isn't it good that I—"  
  
"Shush and learn.  Akane's already jealous of you.  Now you had to go and compound it!"  
  
"Jealous—of me?"  
  
Nabiki nodded wisely.  "Moreover, Akane has worked very hard to become your friend, because she respects and likes you so much, Ranma.  Only somebody who knows her as I do would realize how often she's held in her legendary temper just so you'd call her your friend.  Then someone who goes in attacking you and spouting gibberish earns the same title?  It's understandable that this added to her frustration."  
  
Ranma nodded to herself.  "Yes... but..."  
  
"I'm not through."  
  
Ranma put her head in her hands.  
  
"Finally there was the added dimension of jealousy.  You called him sweet—something you've never done for her.  I think she felt herself quite replaced."  
  
"Akane—  replaced?!!"  
  
"Yes, well... my little sister is very insecure," Nabiki confided.  "She's had trouble keeping friends ever since this caveman drag-her-by-the-hair business began.  The less far-sighted of the girls have always blamed Akane herself for these little attacks, saying she thrived on the attention and the like, when anybody can see it makes her miserable.  For much of the others, little resentments have piled up until most of the student population steers clear of her.  The only two who still talk to her with any frequency are Yuka and Sayuri, though Akane's nice enough to get anyone to chat with her for a brief period of time.  Those are the only friends she's kept, even though she was the most popular girl in school when this whole business began.  That was _why_ this whole business began."  
  
Ranma shook her head.  "Damn it.  What do I do?"  
  
"That's the question you _should_ have asked.  Five hundred yen, please."[3]  
  
Ranma stared at Nabiki's open palm.  "Hey!"  
  
"Well?"  
  
But the redhead already had the measure of Nabiki, if not of Akane.  "Hmph," she said, crossing her arms over her chest haughtily.  "I would have thought the happiness of your family was more important to you than a measly five-hundred, Nabiki."  
  
For a moment, Nabiki looked guilty, but that expression was quickly wiped clean, replaced by a crafty gleam.  "Are you some kind of savant, Ranma?  I have to know.  First you manage Kuno like a pro, and then you manage to strike directly at me.  No one's managed to do that in a long time, except Kasumi who somehow manages it regularly."  She drew in a deep breath, then continued, as though she'd suddenly decided to include something.  "Moreover, you've got a big secret..."  
  
Ranma paled.  "How did you know about that?!"  
  
"I didn't."  Nabiki smirked.  "You just told me."  
  
The redhead's jaw dropped.  "Nabiki Tendo, I'm not sure I like you this way," she announced gruffly, arms crossing over her chest again.  "Last night you stayed with me until I was okay, and you closed your eyes so that I could bathe with you, and you looked so scared for Ryoga that I thought you were going to faint."  She sighed.  "And when I told you about the Catfist, you said I was strong.  This reaction was kind of more what I was expecting last night when you learned about that.  Has it just sunk in now?"  
  
At the mention of the Catfist, Nabiki went white.  She sat through the rest of Ranma's recital with a pained, pale, sober expression. "Come here."  
  
Cautiously Ranma scooted a bit closer to the other girl.  
  
Nabiki slipped an arm around Ranma's waist and leaned on her shoulder.  "I'm sorry, Ranma," she said in a small voice.  "You heard me, what I said—what people think of me here."  
  
Suddenly Ranma saw Nabiki's features calm and smooth as they had been when their conversation first began, heard Nabiki say: _"Talking to me will make you as liked and appreciated as the Black Plague in case you're wondering... and all of it's deserved..._"    
  
"Too many shocks at once, and I guess I retreat a bit further into that image," the girl informed him sadly.  "Forgive me?"  
  
This was the Nabiki Ranma knew, and could handle.  "No big deal, right?  I've been a jerk more times than I can count—at least you know the reason.  And at least you know when you're doing it!  I'm just clueless."  She squeezed Nabiki's shoulder.  
  
The other girl sighed.  "You should apologize to Akane.  Just go up to her, don't give her the chance to say a word.  Say you're sorry, but you really want to go back to being friends.  Don't give excuses—excuses just remind people why they're angry.  Okay?"  
  
"Thanks, Nabiki."  
  
"Don't worry about it, kiddo," she replied, disengaging from their half-hug and dusting off her school uniform.  "You know... I noticed something when I put my arm around you..."  
  
Ranma was treated to the rare image of a Nabiki blushing and embarrassed.  
  
"See, I know you were raised as a boy, but..."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Well, it's just... do you usually not wear a bra?"  
  
Ranma blinked.  Her?  Wear a _bra_?  It was utterly laughable!  
  
"They, er..."  Nabiki shook her head, regaining some of her laconic self.  "The boys are starting to talk.  You'll really need one today, too, since you and Akane have gym after lunch.  I've got gym tomorrow, so you can borrow one of mine, okay?  It's in my locker, number seventeen, and I'll write the combination for you."  
  
"You... do you really think I should?"  Ranma was already running through a half-dozen ways she could worm out of this one.  
  
"Yeah, sure.  The gym uniforms are little bits of nothing, Ranma.  Practically the only thing a girl has is her bra and underpants, honestly!"  Nabiki looked slightly disgusted.  "They really need to update those things, they look like they were _invented_ from some pedophile's sick twisted fantasies..."  
  
Ranma blanched.  Maybe a bra made sense after all.  
  
  


*****-----*****  
  
Gym was directly after lunch, so Nabiki deposited her at the gym door before waving goodbye.  "Remember, don't even mention why you're sorry!  Just say you are," she suggested, offering the redhead one last bit of advice.  
  
"Don't say why, right," Ranma replied, as though she were some kind of soldier receiving orders for her next battle.  
  
"You really are worried about this, aren't you?" the other girl suddenly inquired, her voice soft and confused.  "Don't worry—okay?  Akane's quick to anger but even quicker to forgive."  
  
Ranma offered Nabiki her very best smile.  "Thanks, Nabiki.  What would I do without you?"  
  
The other girl replied with a grin that lit up her face.  Wordlessly, she kissed Ranma on the cheek and hurried off to her next class.  
  
The redhead brought a hand up to her cheek wonderingly, blushing red as a fire engine.  "Huh," she said.  It was the second time in as many months that a beautiful girl had kissed her on the cheek when she was in girl form.  As least Nabiki hadn't decided to kill her, afterwards.  Ranma paused.  "Yet?" she queried aloud.  
  
"You!  There!"  
  
"Hm?" Ranma turned around towards the gym, already not liking the speaker's tone of voice.  
  
A large, muscular woman stood in a nearby doorway to Ranma's right.  "What's your name, young lady?"  
  
"It's Saotome Ranma, ma'am."  Ranma bowed.  "I'm new here, and—"  
  
"Well, Saotome Ranma—if that's even your real name—you're late."  
  
"If that's even my—huh?"  The lady had grabbed Ranma by the wrist and pulled her with a great deal of force.  Ranma wasn't sure she wouldn't have twisted something if she hadn't been quite limber from her fight earlier in the day.  
  
The woman placed her other hand on wide, muscle-rippled hips.  "Get in there!" she commanded, pointing to the entrance rigidly, like a drill sergeant.  She then flung Ranma through the doorway; by the time Ranma caught her balance, she had already stumbled inside.  The redhead froze.    
"What is it, Saotome?"  
  
"This is the girl's changing room!  There are naked _girls_!" Ranma exclaimed, reddening and averting her eyes.  
  
"What were you expecting, the French Foreign Legion?" the woman barked.  "In!  Now!"  
  
Ranma reddened even further.  "Ma'am... I have a, er, _medical_ condition..."  
  
"INNNN!!!!!"   
  
Several girls giggled as Ranma made her way into the locker room, her eyes determinedly fixed to her feet, her face red as a tomato.  She didn't have to go far; Nabiki's locker was number seventeen, so it was in the very first row.  
  
Moving along, still keeping her head determinedly down, she missed the shocked look Akane was giving her.  Akane had locker number fifteen— the lockers were assigned as per surname—and was looking at the redhead as though she'd lost her mind.  
  
Ranma, for her part, was still operating on tunnel vision, and passed by the other girl without a word.  Silently, she slowly read Nabiki's combination to herself and withdrew the bra in question.  
  
Ranma blinked.  It looked like a very tight shirt, to her.  A very brief, very tight shirt that crossed around behind her neck in white cotton.  Well, then; not so bad, after all.[4]  
  
"Psst!  Ranma!!!"  
  
Ranma lifted her head to search for the voice; a mistake.  Immediately she blushed ever further, then paled in something like shock.  
  
"Breasts," she murmured faintly.  
  
"Eep!"  Akane was immediately in her field of vision, blocking all else.  "Are you nuts?!  What do you think you're doing in here?"  
  
"I'm a girl, Akane!" Ranma proclaimed angrily.[5]  "Where am I supposed to be, with the _guys_?"  
  
Akane worried her lower lip.  "I... guess... but, Ranma..."  
  
"Hn?"  
  
"Next time, change in the bathroom before you get to gym class, baka."  
  
"Oh."  Ranma blinked.  "Sometimes you're really smart, you know that?"  
  
Akane flushed with pleasure.  "Thanks."  
  
"I'm sorry about before," Ranma tacked on.  _Hah, Nabiki!_ she thought to herself triumphantly.  _How's that for vague?_  
  
"Sorry about what?" Akane queried curiously.  
  
Ranma froze.  "About... whatever made you upset," she fumbled.  
  
Akane's expression darkened.  "You mean you don't _know_?"  
  
"TIME'S A-WASTING, GIRLS!!!" a loud, vaguely feminine voice belted out.  Several of the girls jumped; Ranma attempted not to notice what that did to interesting parts of their anatomy.  
  
"I-I've got to hurry," Ranma stuttered, throwing off her red Chinese shirt and pulling the white sports bra over her head and adjusting it around herself.  Ranma blinked as she felt it press her breasts quite close to her body; so this must be what girls did when they needed to fight and stuff!  She'd need to remember this one, as her breasts constantly got in her way, whether it was running, fighting, or even trying to pick things up in the way she normally did as a guy.  
  
"NOOOOWWW!!!!"  
  
"Mrs. Ashi sounds particularly nasty today," one of the girls commented as she jogged out.  Akane shrugged at Ranma in a way that somehow suggested Ranma was still not one of her favorite people but she was halfway forgiven, and jogged out into the gym.  
  
Ranma pulled her pants off and reached into Nabiki's locker to remove her gym uniform.  Okay, so here was the underwear, though Ranma didn't see why anyone had to change their _underpants_ for gym class... where were the pants?  
  
Ranma began throwing things out of Nabiki's locker in desperation, looking for the bottom half of the gym uniform, until she remembered Nabiki's words, her embarrassed expression... calling the gym uniform a pedophile's fantasy...  
  
Oh dear.  
  
Ranma shook with suppressed anger as she pulled herself into the teeny-tiny... could they even be called shorts?  
  
She looked down at herself with trepidation.  Oh, _dear_.  If she'd been a boy, she would have...   
  
Ranma shook her head.  _Need to rephrase that_.  If Ranma had ever seen herself walking down the street in this getup during her all-boy days, she would have collapsed promptly from a severe nosebleed.  Well, at least the shirt wasn't quite so bad, Ranma admitted to herself, pulling the white cotton over her head and sighing with relief.  
  
Oh _dear_.  The shirt was too long for Ranma.  It covered her to her hips, making her _really_ look like she was only in her underwear.  She hadn't thought Nabiki was _that_ much taller than she was!  There was no way she was stepping out of this room, no way in hell!  
  
"SAOTOME RAAANNMMMAA!!!"  
  
Ranma eeped.  "Yes ma'am!"  
  
  


*****-----*****

  
Outside, several of the girls stared at her in stony silence.  Akane's gaze was shuttered and blank, and Ranma couldn't even begin to figure what _that_ meant.  As for the boys, they were someplace in between awestruck and incredulous.  
  
"Miss Saotome!" Ashi-san barked.  It seemed that the woman couldn't go more than a couple of sentences without barking like Joi.  
  
"Yes, ma'am?" Ranma inquired.  
  
"Why is it that you've neglected to put on your shorts?"  
  
Ranma reddened.  "They're on, ma'am."  
  
"Funny, it doesn't _look_ like they're on," Mrs. Ashi shot back.  "Boys, does it look like Miss Saotome is fully clothed to you?"  
  
Some of the boys, taken aback at being addressed by the girl's gym teacher as well as surprised by the question, obviously let their minds wander.  Several trickles of blood spouted from several different noses, including Hikaru Gosunkugi's.  
  
Ranma blinked at them and reddened even further.  If there was ever a time she'd been this embarrassed, she didn't remember it.  She lifted her shirt slightly, desperate for the woman to simply start class.  "The shirt's just too long, Mrs. Ashi, it kind of covers these shorts..."  
  
"Put your shirt down, young lady!  I think you've exposed enough of yourself for today."  
  
Ranma felt her blood begin to boil, her helpless feeling dissipating in a tsunami of anger.  "It would help if these shorts weren't meant for an eight-year-old girl!" she accused.  Several of the other girls giggled.  "Why can't we wear normal pants, like the boys?"  
  
"Well, Miss Saotome, since you're so keen on being like the boys... why don't you play with _them_ today?"  
  
The redhead froze.  "B-but..."  
  
Several of the Furinkan boys were now leering openly.  
  
"NOW, Miss Saotome..."  
  
Ranma slunk off to the other end of the gym; one of the boys had even managed to offer a hoot and whistle.  
  
Just as Ranma felt her world narrowing into a haze of red, Akane broke into her vision.  
  
"Miss Tendo, unless you _also_ feel like playing with the boys," Mrs. Ashi growled, "you'll come back here this instant!  But if the past is any indication, you'd enjoy the attention!"  
  
Ranma came out of her world of despair with a snap when she realized there were tears in the other girl's eyes.  For a moment, it seemed as though the world dissipated around the two of them, as though there was no gym, no stupid gym outfit, nothing else but them—Ranma looking surprised, Akane looking sorrowful and frustrated.  
  
The redhead gulped, noticing how Akane looked when she was sad.  It was a horrible thing to think, a horrible thing to do, to admire somebody while they were upset, as though they were a work of art rather than a person in pain, but Ranma did it because she had no choice.  
  
Akane was beautiful.  
  
With a sigh, Akane moved to put her arms around Ranma.  
  
_No.  Am I dreaming?  I'm dreaming!_  She half-expected Akane to start purring suddenly, but there Akane still was, her arms reaching for Ranma's waist.  _In front of kami-sama and everyone!_ Ranma thought, something in her panicking.  _But would it be so bad?  Would it be so bad if... if... if she...  
  
...kissed me?_  
  
Just when Ranma was beginning to get the courage to put her arms around Akane, too, the dark-haired girl drew back.  
  
Ranma blinked as she realized Akane had two handfuls of Ranma's oversize shirt.  With a deft twist, Akane tied them tightly together, and there was suddenly a knot of cotton at Ranma's waist.  
  
You could suddenly see Ranma's shorts.  Panties.  Whatever the pedophile inventor of the torture devices had christened them.[6]  Ranma had seen girls do that with blouses: not button the bottom couple of buttons and simply tie the two ends of the shirt together, often under their breasts.  
  
"There now, all better," Akane told her softly, and ran off to go play softball with the girls.  
  
The redhead stood silent and still, breathing heavy, knees weak, and nose full of the scent that lingered in Akane's room.  The smell of Akane—her hair and her skin.  She muttered an imprecation under her breath, running a hand through her bangs distractedly.  
  
The world returned with a vengeance.  
  
"—DONE WITH YOUR HALLMARK MOMENT, WE'LL GO OUTSIDE!!!" Mrs. Ashi was growling at the Tendo girl as she herded her students out the double doors towards the back of the gym.  
  
_Was_ there a moment, or had Ranma just imagined it?  Was Akane crying because she thought Ranma was really upset, or did she actually have something in her eye?  There was certainly some tenderness in Akane's actions, but did she just feel bad for the redhead since she was getting teased?  " 'There now, all better'?!" Ranma quoted wryly under her breath.  "Christ!  Who does she think she _is,_ my mother?!"  
  
"Boy," Hikaru said to her congenially, a wide smile on his normally placid face.  "You've got it _bad_."  
  
"Shut up, pervert," Ranma demanded, still mindful of Hikaru's drawing of she and Akane.  "It ain't like that at all, that's just your twisted little imagination hard at work."  
  
"Well, in case you want to know, it's not just _my _twisted little imagination," Hikaru chirped.  "It's what everyone's saying."  
  
"All right, team, line up!" the male gym teacher was ordering.  "On this line!  Now, captains—pick your teams!"  
  
"What?!" Ranma hissed.  "What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying that every guy at Furinkan thinks you have a thing for Akane, not just me."  
  
Ranma shook her head, trying to ignore him, but was unable to let something like that go unanswered.  "No, sorry, Hikaru, but you're imagining that, too."  
  
"Are you kidding?"  Hikaru Gosunkugi's eyebrows raised into his hair.  He ticked off each point as he spoke.  "First of all," he said to his right-hand index finger, "Nabiki announces that you and Akane are engaged, even though the entire thing is something of a farce."  
  
"Something of a what?"  
  
"Er... even though the two of you don't really believe you'll marry, I meant.  That's more than enough grist for the rumor mill.  Second of all, Kuno pulled that big one-eighty on you two.  He has to have a reason.  And of course, there are those pictures..."  
  
"You little snake!" Ranma accused.  "How'd you find out about those?!"  
  
"Nabiki again," Hikaru announced.  
  
"I don't want to hear the third of all or the twentieth of all!  Akane isn't _like_ that, she'd never do anything with a girl," Ranma announced, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"But you wish she would," Hikaru commented.  
  
"Baka no hentai!" Ranma accused.[7]   "You just keep your perverted little thoughts out of me and Akane's lives!"  
  
There was a ringing silence that drew the attention of the pair.  Ranma looked up to realize that everyone else had been picked for teams, save the two of them.  They were surrounded by a great deal of empty space.  
  
All the boys were staring at her with newfound speculation.  
  
"I pick Gos," the team captain on the left announced.  
  
Ranma hung her head, feeling like cursing out the entire universe at the top of her lungs, only able to stand there and be the last one picked for gym.  She guessed the way the guys figured, even Hikaru was better than a girl.  
  
Ranma learned her mistake when they finally started playing basketball.  "I'm open!  I'm open!" she cried, watching as the boys refused to pass to her, one by one.  The other team got the ball and scored.  "You jerks!" she accused.  "Why didn't you pass to me?"  
  
No one answered her; most of the boys satisfied themselves with shrugs.  The next play made it harder to ignore.  Nobody on the opposite team even bothered to guard her.  "Hey, I'm _o-pen_," she announced, enunciating very clearly.  Yet still, none of the other guys seemed to hear her.  Once again, the ball flew past her, intended for another student's hands, but this time it flew to her team's basket, though with a great deal of difficulty.  Ranma reddened.  If they'd just give her the ball, she would be able to score and this whole stupid girly nonsense could stop.  
  
The ball moved back and forth down the court, and Ranma simply watched it move back and forth, open as a half-drunk can of soda, her head bobbing like a jack-in-the-box as she watched the action, unable to participate.  Her team was falling behind significantly, because all she did was get in the way and block the person she'd been assigned to guard: Hikaru.  Of course, since Hikaru was really doing the same thing she was, it wasn't turning out to be much of a game.  
  
"Pass to me!" she finally growled.  "What's wrong with you idiots?!"  
  
One of her teammates paused, a boy she didn't recognize; one with a long scar running across his cheek.  "We don't play with dykes," he spat, and passed the ball to a young man behind her.  
  
Ranma froze as the game moved beyond her.  It wasn't the fact she was in her girl form at all.  It was because she was engaged to Akane!  Stick to Akane at all costs, indeed!    
  
Ranma felt it all swim in to cover her at once.  All of a sudden, there were tears in her eyes, tears that weren't shed yet, but that were threatening to.  She'd never received this hostile a reaction from anybody she'd ever known, and the way they were ignoring her!  It made her so angry...  
  
Growling under her breath, Ranma took off down the court, abandoning her post.  
  
"Huh?" Gos murmured as the redhead streaked past him, her scarlet braid whipping his face.  
  
With a graceful leap, Ranma landed lightly behind Scar-kun, and stole the ball from him.  She scooted down the court, evading her opponents like some elusive, exotic butterfly, leaping up to gently tap the ball into the hoop.  She turned to face her team and stuck out her tongue.  "Biiidah!" she announced.  "How's that, huh, jerk?" she demanded, growling at Scar-kun, bristling like an enraged cat.  "_No_ guy ignores me!"  
  
"Huh!" Scar-kun harrumphed, striding to her and standing very close.  "Sensei, we'd better get a new ball, since the _dyke _touched it!"  
  
The gym teacher raised a hand slightly in the air in the gesture for pause.  "Yoreko, I suggest you stop the name-calling this instant.  The young lady's had quite enough."  
  
Ranma was surprised and pleased that at least one of the gym teachers had the sense kami-sama gave a cabbage.  Scar-kun nodded, appearing to realize he'd gone too far, but turned to glare at Ranma the moment their teacher had turned his back.  
  
"You ain't a young _lady_," Yoreko hissed under his breath.  "You're something in between.  You hear that, dyke?  You're a freak!"  
  
With a strangled growl, Ranma jumped him.  
  
"Miss Saotome!" the sensei exclaimed, pulling Ranma's light weight off of Yoreko easily.  Ranma's attack had been unplanned and decidedly feminine, not to mention full of rage.  She had scored Yoreko's face with her fingernails; four bloody tracks ran from underneath his eye to his chin.  One of his eyes was swelling and threatening to blacken as well.  Ranma for her part was unharmed but she stared daggers at the rest of the boys.  
  
"Any of you come near me again, I'll claw out your eyes!" she announced.  
  
"Ranma!" the gym teacher suddenly barked.  
  
The redhead let herself go limp, then suddenly burst into tears.  
  
"Premenstrual _bitch_!" Yoreko announced.  
  
"That's quite enough from you, young man.  Go to the principal's office and ask him for a new haircut."  
  
"But..."  
  
"_Now_."  
  
"But she attacked me!" he whined, pointing to his eye as though the evidence was not obvious enough.  
  
The man's voice went low and dangerous.  "I thought I made myself clear, Mister Yashimoto.  I thought I'd made myself _very_ clear."  
  
"Y-yes, sir."  
  
"Ranma, please go to my office and wait for me there."  
  
Ranma was still crying, but she managed to nod and stumble off.  Sitting in the office right outside the boy's locker room, she couldn't imagine how she'd allowed herself to lose control like that!  What if she'd seriously hurt Yoreko?  Sure, he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to _die_ or anything, and many of Ranma's attacks really were that damaging.  Oh, and Akane would be soo disappointed in her!  She wiped at her eyes hurriedly—for heaven's sake, she really _was_ turning into a girl!  No!  She needed to relax, be calm.  Everything would be okay if she could just calm down.    
  
The redhead forced herself to take slow, deep breaths.  She'd just let herself get angry and frustrated because they wouldn't let her play, that was all.  It was no big deal, not really.  _Stop focusing on it.  Think of something else._  
  
Ranma fumbled about for something she was not depressed about.  That made her cry some more.  Wait, Nabiki!  Nabiki had been very nice to her today, letting Ranma borrow her shirt and...  
  
...the oversized shirt... Akane...  Ranma found herself suddenly bawling afresh.  
  
"Well, Miss Saotome?  What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
Ranma looked up at the male gym teacher and opened her mouth.  She was miserably satisfied to see his expression change; he hadn't realized she was quite this upset.  "I'm s-s-sorry," she stammered, and broke into fresh tears.  
  
"Well," he said uncomfortably.  "There, now.  Are... is everything okay at home?  I know you've just moved, and it can be difficult to adjust."  
  
"_I'm_ adjusting just fine!" Ranma sniffed.  "It's everybody else that's having the problem!"  
  
"And do you usually hit people who seem like problems?"  
  
Ranma sniffed and hiccoughed, shocked out of her tears.  She wiped under her eyes.  "N-no," she replied.  _Yes_, she thought.  Had Nabiki been tossing her a tiny clue about her own personality when she'd mentioned that Akane always thought with her fists?  It was a sobering thought, but she'd never really lost control like that before.  
  
"Well, there's a first time for everything," the sensei said tiredly, as though he had heard her thoughts, running a hand over his face in weariness.  "Nothing's different about today?  Why do you think you hit Yoreko the way you did?"  
  
Ranma gulped.  "I really don't know, sir."  
  
"Now that's a problem," the sensei said sternly.  "When we do not know the root of our mistakes, we tend to repeat them over again until we learn."  
  
The redhead suddenly had a terrible thought.  "A-are you going to expel me?!"  
  
"Of course not," he said, his voice flat.  "But expect this to go on your record."  
  
"Y-yes, sir.  Well... I guess it was just the last straw, today."  And before she knew it, she was telling him everything—the way she and Kuno had fought together this morning, and how she and Akane had fought directly afterwards—how Nabiki had demanded money for advice she should have given freely—how nervous she was having to undress in front of strangers—her problems with her uniform—her sensei's badgering—Hikaru's telling her about the rumors concerning she and Akane—and the boys making her sit out the game, for all intents and purposes.  She went on and on, all of it spilling out in one tearful gush.  When she was done, the sensei put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
_He's touching me_, Ranma thought, suddenly and irrationally.  _Why is he doing that?_  
  
"Don't worry about it, Ranma," he said kindly, squeezing her shoulder a bit.  
  
_Why is he doing that?!_  Ranma bristled, wondering why that was bothering her so much.  
  
"The new kid stuff wears off," he added, removing his hand as though sensing her touchy mood.  "Soon they'll forget you weren't here all along.  Trust me, I've seen it over and over again.  Once you find a boy you like, the rumors about your friend Akane will stop and you won't have to worry about them anymore."  
  
"A boy I... like?" Ranma inquired, blinking up at him hesitantly, her blue eyes clouded.  
  
"Certainly.  One that you'd like to go steady with, Ranma; that's what I mean.  As for your gym teacher, Ms. A—I'm afraid she's always been this way.  Ever since I was in school, anyway.  The boys didn't usually get on her bad side, but this one time, she made me clean the boy's locker room floor with my tongue.  It was an experience I don't care to repeat."  
  
Ranma raised her eyebrows, unable to tell if he were joking or not; but suddenly he began to laugh, and so did she.  
  
"Fortunately or unfortunately, both Akane and Tatewaki have reputations for changing their feelings about things very rapidly," he tacked on.  "I doubt this knight-in-shining-armor business _or_ Akane's anger will last long."  
  
"You think?"  
  
He smiled again, warmly.  "I do think.  Quite often.  And in this case, I think I need to send you to the nurse's office."  
  
"Hm?  Why's that?"  She gave herself a cursory examination, checking her arms and legs for bruises.  "Did he get me?  I thought I—"  The sight of a small spot of blood on Nabiki's gym shorts drew her to a stammering halt.  
  
Thus completing what was, perhaps, the worst and most embarrassing school day of Ranma's life.  
  
  


*****-----*****

  
By the time the redhead reached work after school, she was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about.  Sure, it was really annoying and all, and –dear Kami-sama above, _embarrassing_, she'd never live it down—but it wasn't really all that painful.  Maybe girls just had different pain levels than guys did.  
  
But, 'protection' firmly in place, Ranma strolled around Tofu-sensei's office as usual, Joi at her heels, learning Tofu-sensei's special filing system and checking occasionally on Ryoga, who the doctor said had been sleeping ever since he'd drained his wound.  This was uncomfortable, but it was something she could deal with pretty easily.  Maybe Akane had just made more out of it than it was, really, so that she could claim being a girl was hard.  No—that wasn't like Akane.  It was more likely that Akane had made this whole thing out to be a big deal because she was afraid Ranma would panic utterly if she didn't.  Well, the redhead was doing just fine, thank you very much.  No biggie.  
  
Now what was that nice gym teacher's name?  She was mortified, of course, but she could easily thank him for being so nice to her... via a note or something.  The only problem was addressing it.  "Dear Sensei" didn't sound quite right, really.  She'd have to ask Akane for his name.  Provided Akane was feeling better, which Ranma was pretty certain she was.  
  
Joi yipped, and Ranma leaned down to pat the dog on the head.  Joi licked her hand, seeming concerned; the redhead wondered uneasily if he thought she was injured or something.  
  
The rest of the afternoon and the better part of the evening was spent either announcing that the doctor was ready for another patient or playing with the dog.  No big deal!  No big deal at all.  
  
When Ranma arrived at home, Akane, Nabiki, Kasumi, and Soun were all gathered together.  "Ranma..." Akane began.  She did seem to have forgiven her, after all.  Her eyes were sad.   
  
"What's up?" the redhead queried, bobbing to sit down next to Akane.  "Why's everyone so grim?"  
  
"Your father's up and disappeared, that's what," Nabiki said tartly.  "He kept saying he was looking for a job, but he was really making travel plans.  And now he's gone."  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Oh, Saotome, how could you have done this?" Soun wailed.  "First you tell me you have a boy when you really have a girl—then you try to marry them anyway—and then you leave her behind for me to take care of!  Waaahhh!"  
  
"Don't be silly, Daddy," Nabiki cut in.  "Ranma's paying her own way.  She was at Tofu-sensei's.  She's his assistant, now."  
  
"Waaaaah, one of my little girls has a job!"  
  
Ranma blinked.  "M-mister Saotome, I'm not one—"  
  
"—to brag," Nabiki cut in, shooting the redhead a warning look.  "That's why she didn't tell you."  
  
"Oh, I'm so proud!" he wept, sweeping Ranma into a forceful hug.  
  
"But... where'd dad _go_?" she demanded, extricating herself from the man's soppy embrace.  
  
The three girls looked uncomfortable for a moment.  "We don't mean he's gone off to _do_ something, dear," Kasumi finally said, gently.  "We mean he's left town."  
  
"Maybe for good," Nabiki tacked on, never one for dancing around an issue.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ranma!" Akane added, her eyes downcast.  
  
"You guys don't get it!" Ranma asserted, not realizing that her eyes were full again.  "He probably went to cure the—" she halted.  
  
"The curse?" Kasumi inquired.  "No, Ranma; I think he finally came to his senses about your supposed curse, didn't he?"  
  
"You don't understand!" Ranma cried, her body quivering with suppressed energy.  "He's lied a bunch of times, and even stolen some stuff, but _he'd never leave me behind!!!_"  Even while she assured the others, her brain was remembering that Genma had wanted to bolt the very first night, and she'd refused.  All but told him to go on without her.  But that was because she'd known he wouldn't, damn it!  She'd... been so sure...  Ranma compressed her lips and felt her tears finally break free, spilling down her cheeks.  She sniffed.  "I'm going to my room," she announced suddenly, and walked up the stairs, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Without her guyhood, it was obvious that Genma no longer wanted her.  Christ, _she_ didn't want her.  This stupid girl body had things like boobs that got in the way, periods, and people were always making dumb assumptions about her all the time.  Besides, she was way too short to even make a decent-sized girl; Nabiki and Akane were inches taller than she was.  
  
She didn't make a good girl.  It was time to face it.  There was obviously more to being a girl than being able to pout or show a lot of leg, and Ranma had scraped together enough information to realize she'd only just scratched the surface of the feminine gender.  It was too complicated, probably not just for the Great Saotome Ranma but for _anyone_—the complexities of gender were obviously something one had to learn all her life, not try to pick up on the fly in three days of intensive training.  In the end, what she was was a complete failure as a woman—but she knew she could not go back to the boy she used to be after this.  She knew that for a fact.  
  
Ranma lay on Akane's bed, her eyes closed tightly as she thought back to her father's speech about women making men weak.  Ranma knew she felt weaker, but it was not because of Akane at all; she had done it to herself, chasing something she'd never have: a normal life.  _Trust pops to hit the wrong nail right on the head_, she said to herself.  
  
A normal life!  Hah!  A normal life was way more trouble than one on the road.  On the road there were no attachments, nothing to tie you down.  Nobody to worry about by yourself.  
  
Nobody to hold you and tell you that you won't be alone anymore, either.  No one to fill the quiet hours of the night with quiet sleep-talking or soft chatting.  Empty bed, empty road.    
  
No.  It had been so much easier being a guy.  You never had to think about anybody's _reactions_ to what you might say or do, never think about what someone might say next so you could plan your response.  So much easier when you never had to worry about who you might be hurting.[8]  
  
Kasumi and Nabiki and Akane.  They'd been anxious when she was hurt, that night.  But they'd dismissed Mister Tendo, who'd been worried over the same thing, and he'd gone, relieved.  Emotions were woman's domain, and they protected it fiercely, believing a man could easily botch any job they let slip through their fingers.  
  
Maybe some of that nervousness was transferred over to men, who were often confused or unsettled in times of distress, while women let their mothering instincts kick in.    
  
Mothering.  What was she to Akane, anyway?  Akane's pet project?  Science project?  Freak?  
  
Ranma's mind was wandering, and she realized she was tired, and ready for sleep.  "Tomorrow.  Hot water," she said aloud.  "And... and I'll try to be... again..."  
  


*****-----*****

*****-----*****

Author's Notes:  Hi all; thanks for waiting.  Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes is living up to its title.  That is, it seems to be going in a million directions at once.  Five chapters or so down the road, the story splits into three different tales.  One has Genma as the main character; one focuses on Ranma, still; the other pools many characters together to create a group adventure story in which Ryoga is the main focus.  For a long time, I couldn't decide which of these I wanted, or if, perhaps, I wanted a combination of the three.  Now that I have a little bit more of an idea what I want, I felt I could continue posting.  :)

  


* * *

[1] From a children's book of the same name

[2] Strangers In Paradise, Terry Moore.  A series of comic-book dramas.  You should read SiP.  Even if you don't read comics, you should read SiP, for it is the comic of those who are not fond of comics.  (Yuh oh, been writing Kuno too long...)

[3] The best way to ROUGHLY convert yen to dollars is to move the decimal two places to the right.  Therefore Nabiki is asking Ranma for approximately five U.S. dollars.  The actual amount is less, but it's close enough to get an idea of how much something costs when you're reading.  Think of one yen like one penny—sort of.

[4] It suddenly occurred to me that roughly half the population may become confused by this description.  Ranma is viewing a sports bra.  Like a very tight, short shirt: some people wear them w/out anything over.

[5] ...and you don't hear Ranma say THAT every day...

[6] 'buruma', actually, is the technical name

[7] "You perverted idiot!" or something like it.

[8] That guy gym teacher was really sensitive to Ranma's problems, and Mister Tendo is, well, sensitive to a _fault_.  I do not think guys are incapable of sensitivity.  Neither would Ranma, if she were thinking clearly.


	5. The Path and the Way

CHAPTER FIVE: the Path and the Way

Shampoo's eyes were everywhere.  They scanned the darkened trees around her, scanned the sky above, and scanned the path ahead.  Why hadn't she simply agreed to let stupid Mousse come along?  At least then, there would be two sets of eyes.  Besides, she was pretty sure Mousse had been to Japan, once upon a time.  Shampoo was already far beyond the roads she'd traveled. 

The Juketsuzoku had a name for that, and it meant being out of your element as well as out of your experience: outside your stride.  Shampoo had been outside of her stride for the last twenty miles, easily.  Now, she was beginning to wonder if any of the rumors about foreigners were really true: did some of them really have horns?  Were their women kept in chains and forced to do labor?  A host of terrible images swam past Shampoo's eyes.  If the latter was so, she would spend her life where it was good currency. 

The warrior finally crouched down, poking at the flames with a handy stick, pushing the tinder closer to the heart of the fire.  In moments, she was in a half-trance, her lids half-lowered as she stared into the flames.  There was something hypnotic about fire, she decided – the way it sparked and danced.  It was so beautiful, and so very very dangerous.  Weapons were forged in fire, blades and hammers, arrows and daggers.  Fire was destruction embodied.  It devoured without a thought. 

Shampoo wished her journey long over.  Even though she'd originally been more than pleased to leave the village, she was already missing things like the practice arena, the bathing pool, and her own, cozy little cabin – not to mention her great-grandmamma, and even Mousse, the bumbling fool.  Far away from Juketsuzoku, it was easy to see that he loved her very desperately, but she knew her growing acceptance of the fact would wear thin the moment he reappeared.  Baka Mousse. 

Besides, she had a job to do.  Not a job she was really looking forward to, but a job nonetheless.  Gods, she just wanted to go _home_. 

Shampoo sighed, laying down by her pitiful little fire, and attempted to sleep. 

Her dreams were of murder. 

A loud crack woke her.  Shampoo rolled immediately and with blinding speed, pulling two shinai from the ground where she had carefully placed them, ending in a half-kneel, her weapons raised.  "Who goes there?!" she called out.  When no one replied, Shampoo's eyes narrowed and she stood cautiously, trying to keep an eye on every direction.  Whatever was moving out there was making a great deal of noise; it was not making an effort in the slightest to disguise its movement.  That made it an animal or an absurdly confident person. 

Or, perhaps, simply somebody lost in the forest, not expecting to see anybody at all. 

Shampoo stood silent as a stone, waiting.  It was a big thing, whatever it was.  At least twice her size, perhaps a bit more massive than that.  She would wait until she saw it before moving to attack.

A glimmer of white and she was death personified, leaping with an almost unnatural grace, one shinai extended, one pulled close to her ribs.

The next thing she knew, she was sailing through the air in the opposite direction.  With a massive effort, she flipped to land on her feet—to face her enemy.  He wore a white gi and spectacles that fastened behind his ears.  "_You!_" she exclaimed.

"Kuso!" the man exclaimed.  "Doco—doco wa?"[1]

Shampoo blinked.  "Un," she articulated intelligently.  "You're Japanese, I forgot."  While it was obvious he'd asked her a question, she was otherwise at a loss.  She wondered briefly if she should try to kill him—he _had_ eaten all of her food, the greedy jerk.  However, she was simply too curious about seeing him again, and besides, it was his daughter she really had the quarrel with.  "What are you _doing_ here?" she demanded.  "If you're trying to get back to Japan, you should know you're going the wrong way."  If he failed to amuse her, she could always kill him later.  _This_ one she might even _enjoy_.

"So ka; onna wa Chogoku-jin desu,"[2] the man mused, shrugging to himself.

Shampoo threw her hands into the air in a gesture of exasperation, and pointed him back the way he'd come.

He shook his head firmly, catching on almost immediately, and pointed towards the village.

Shampoo frowned.  "And what business do you have with us?" she queried, lifting her chin and gazing at him with her grandmother's patented high-priestess expression plastered across her face.  

He shook his head as though this was an utter waste of time; and, Shampoo had to admit, perhaps it was.  Then he attempted to barrel his way past her.

She danced back and forth, remaining in front of the heavier man.  "No way!  You think you'll get away with that?!  I'm the best warrior in my village, you overgrown sack of yams, and I'm not going to let you get there just to wreak some extra-special havoc you missed wreaking last time!"

"Wakarimasu ka?  Maaa," he groaned, placing a hand on his forehead.  "Shikata ga arimasen."[3]

"That's right, stupid Japanese," Shampoo said, nodding.  "So you're just going to have to turn right around—ne?" she finished in mocking tones.  She knew what 'ne' meant, at least.

The old man sighed, and pointed to himself.  "Genma," he said clearly.

The purple-haired girl grimaced, but decided to play along.  She was still interested, but her patience was waning.  She put her own hand to her heart.  "Shan Pu," she said clearly.

"Nani?"

"Shan," she said slowly.  "Pu."

"Shampoo?"

It was close enough.  She shrugged, nodding.  

Genma considered for a moment, then raised his hand, palm down, to about Shampoo's height.

"Yes, yes, somebody that size," Shampoo recited, nodding.  "You're looking for your daughter?  Well, so am I."  She smiled congenially, but shrugged and shook her head.  She hadn't seen the redhead since several weeks ago back in the village.

She'd gotten it wrong; the man wasn't looking for his daughter.  He wanted something _for_ her.  What it was, Shampoo couldn't even begin to guess: the man's gesticulations got more and more difficult to interpret as he went on.

"Enough!" Shampoo exclaimed, batting his hands away.  "I can't tell what you mean, so just stop trying!"  Didn't this idiotic male realize he was conversing with a Juketsuzoku maiden?  He was wasting her time!

He held his hand up in front of her face, his middle finger upright.[4]

"One more try, fine," Shampoo said, sighing and nodding.  After that, she'd punch the idiot in the gut, maybe make a small wound so he couldn't follow her, and then be on her way.

Genma paused, considering.  His hands moved up and down.

"Water," the girl said, yawning with boredom.  To communicate her understanding, she mimicked drinking.

He shook his head.

"Well what the hell else goes up and down like that—hills?"  Shampoo bit her lip, then formed an up-side-down V with her hands to indicate a mountain.

He nodded excitedly, then moved his hands again in the same pattern.

"Yes, the damned hills, I got that part already," she snapped.

Genma smiled at her sunnily, and stopped his movement, pointing at...

"Valley," Shampoo replied.  She veed her hands again, and he pointed at the base of the mountain for her.  "Yes, valley.  What about it?"

Genma flattened one hand at eye level.  His other hand mimed something falling towards the flattened area.

"Hn?  Fall?  Somebody fell into a valley?"  Shampoo blinked, suddenly going rigid.  In her limited experience, it was easy to reach the end of Genma's story long before he was finished.  "Jhusenkyo," she confirmed.  It was not really a question.

"Jhusenkyo," he repeated, nodding.  "Ranma."

"Your kid.  Your daughter.  Jhusenkyo," she repeated thoughtfully.  "So, what does the dead girl turn into?"

Genma pointed at Shampoo emphatically.

"What about me?" she queried.

He sighed.  He pointed to himself, then to Shampoo.

"I'm not getting you."  Shampoo shook her head, arms crossed across her chest.

Genma stared at her for a moment, then pointed at her breasts, one at a time.

The Juketsuzoku blinked at him, taking a step back.  "You'll pay for that one, you dirty old...  _woman_!  You mean Ranma fell into Spring of Drowned Girl!  Hah!  But that won't do anything, it'll just..."  Shampoo blinked again, dazedly, realizing that Ranma had fallen in before she'd had ever met the girl.  Ranma could be anything!  A bug that happened to fall into the spring, or more likely a highly intelligent animal like a dog or jaguar, or even a rat—she was relatively certain such things could be taught to speak if they had the right equipment, had human vocal chords.  "Ranma... isn't... a pet or anything... is she?  She's a guy?"  The purple-haired girl quickly moved to explain herself.  "Ranma," she said clearly, then pointed at Genma.  The message was clear: is Ranma like you?

Genma nodded.

Shampoo sighed gratefully.  So she just had to marry him!

Just?  If anything, that was even more complicated!  She began cursing under her breath quietly in Chinese.  

Genma obviously thought she was sympathizing; he nodded and looked distraught.

"Okay," she said, "okay.  Right.  I should go back to the elders and ask—but no!  I'm already a day's travel away.  Go back now and we lose two, and Ranma's tracks aren't fresh as it is.  Besides which, there's the other thing, far more important..."

The older martial artist seemed to notice that Shampoo was talking to herself, because he waited respectfully while she rambled on.

Shampoo shook her head to clear it.  The law was perfectly solid in such cases; she didn't need anyone's permission to bag Ranma and bring her—er, him—home.  "All right, old man," Shampoo said contemptuously.  "Where is Ranma?"

And though it did take awhile, they each managed to explain where the other had to go to get what they wanted.

*****-----*****

"Kill me now," Ranma begged.

"I'm not going to kill you," Akane said firmly.  "Take these."  She handed Ranma a small glass of water and three pills.

"But I'm half-dead already," the redhead whined.  "It'd be a mercy."

"No, _thank_ you," Akane said, patting her on the head.  "Drink up, girl.  The pain will be half that bad in twenty minutes or so."

"Only half?" she queried in a small voice.  "That still leaves me one-quarter dead!"

"Ehhhh!" Akane exclaimed in frustration.  "Come downstairs when you feel you can _stand_, okay?"

Ranma blinked suspiciously at the pills in her hand.  To be perfectly honest, other than simple stuff like aspirin and rubbing alcohol, her experience with any kind of medicine passed straight through 'limited' and into 'nonexistant'.  She didn't like the idea of ingesting anything that was specifically engineered to mess around with her body.

On the other hand, there was that slightly distracting blinding pain, she reminded herself.  Ranma gulped down the three pills, chasing them with the entire glass of cool water Akane had handed her.

Oh, crap!  Why had she listened?  Why had she swallowed so much as a gulp of air?

"Oh, Ranma!"  Kasumi's voice came floating up from downstairs.  "Ranma, dear!  Come down, we have red beans and rice!"[5]

Lovely.  The whole family knew of her agony.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Kasumi!" she called.  Her plan of changing back to a boy and re-proving her masculinity had fallen flat on its face.  First of all, she could scarcely move, and second of all, her attempt to change back via hot water had been... problematic...

Of course, Akane had done her best to help the redhead out, even when Ranma had briefly changed forms, which always seemed to make her very nervous.  But even Akane could neither cure nor explain away Ranma-kun's debilitating dizziness.  Ranma was stuck as a girl for the next several days, at least if she wished to walk in a straight line.  It was a toss-up as to whether the symptoms were worse when she was a girl or a guy, come to think of it.  

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling as though her center of gravity was two feet lower than before.  Ranma blinked forcefully to settle the room and moved downstairs, one step at a time.  How pitiful!  When Ranma was a guy, she could have taken them all in one leap.  

_Don't be an idiot_, a cool voice sounded in his head.  _It's not because you're a girl, it's because you're a girl at this particular time_.

"Hmph," Ranma said aloud, moving into the kitchen.  "Uhm... Kasumi," she began as the other girl bustled around the kitchen, "you don't really have to..."

"Nonsense!" Kasumi announced.  "I made red beans and rice for Nabiki, I made red beans and rice for Akane, and I'm going to make them for you!  You're a part of this family, Ranma."

Ranma surprised herself by blinking back tears and emitting an "okay" that sounded much smaller than it had in her head.  She took her traditional place next to Akane and waited.  The pills did seem to be working—she no longer felt she should jump out of Akane's window and try to aim so she landed on her head.

"Psst."  Akane nudged Ranma and passed her a small object.

"What is it?" Ranma inquired.  "Hey, it's warm!"

"It's a hot water bottle," she explained.  "You can keep it while you're sitting here, anyway."

"It's _filled_ with _hot water_?  Talk about trouble, looking for a place to...  ahhh...."  Ranma literally moaned in pleasure as Akane pressed it to her stomach.  The redhead would have liked to know a great deal about the whys of that one, as she was certainly stumped.  How should hot water pressed to her stomach help?  Was it cold, and that was why it was giving her all this trouble?  Geez!

Unable to look a gift horse in the mouth for long, Ranma thanked Akane.  How did girls learn about this stuff?  "I feel normal again," she announced sotto voce to Akane.  "Only a bit of pain, and I can deal with it."

"Great, Ranma!  I'm glad I could help."  She offered the other girl a dazzling smile.

Ranma bit her lip and sighed.  Akane could look so beautiful like that, when she was helping people.  Maybe she'd become a nurse, or something, so she could help people all the time.  The downside was that while Ranma loved being helped by Akane, and sometimes needed her aid, it seemed that was all the other girl wanted of her.  Somebody to play mother to.  When Ranma was certain she felt... something else.

The redhead blushed, her situation becoming clear to her for the first time.  She was in a very nice guy's house, under false pretenses—the pretense that she was female and had always been—and she'd been sleeping with his baby girl for about a week now.  Neither sister knew about her curse, either, though they knew about her past.  Not only was she freeloading as of yet (she'd only been to work at Tofu-sensei's once) but she was also setting herself and everyone in this house up for a giant disappointment.

_Failure as a woman_, she thought to herself glumly, _failure as a man.  You don't know what you're doing Saotome Ranma!_

The only thing Ranma knew about Soun Tendo was that he was unpredictable.  She had no way of gauging his reaction if—no, when—he discovered she was a guy.

"Does it still hurt that bad?" Akane inquired solicitously.

Ranma broke off her depressed musings for a moment to shake her head.  "Just thinking of something sad," she replied.  "Akane... what was the homework yesterday?"

Akane beamed.  "You can copy, just this once," she said softly, and gave Ranma a wink.

The redhead sighed.  

Just as Kasumi was placing their plates in front of them, Nabiki stumbled downstairs.  "Whereza pain killers?" she demanded.  "Oh!"  Her eyes met Ranma's.  "Congratulations, I had no idea it was your first time.  Welcome to the hell-once-a-month club.  Kasumi," she growled.  "Painkillers."

Akane leapt up and offered Nabiki the bottle she'd given Ranma.

"Thanks, li'l sis."  Nabiki gulped four of them, chewing.

While Ranma and Akane's features twisted into identical pictures of disgust at the thought of chewing bitter aspirin, Kasumi laid Nabiki's plate in front of her.  "Isn't it... a bit off, dear?"

"_Yeah_, it's a bit off," Nabiki growled.  "It wasn't supposed to be here for another day or two at least."

"Oh my!  I suppose little Ranma has managed to yank us all a bit off-course."

"Huh?" Ranma looked up from where she'd been eating.  "I... I didn't mean to..."

Kasumi ruffled her hair.  "Not a problem dear.  We'll just have to plan ahead.  Akane?"

Akane nodded.  "Yeah, sure oneechan."

"You're not telling me you girls all get it at the same time?  No way!" Ranma laughed.

The three Tendos stared at her in something like shock.

"Oh, Akane, this _so_ falls to you," Nabiki said.  "Give me the damn hot water bottle, Ranma, you're done with it."

"But—"

"Gimmie!!"

Ranma sighed, but forked it over.  Immediately she started to feel worse, but not half as bad as before.  

"You well enough to go to school, Ranma?" Akane inquired.

"Bring the medicine and I think I'll be okay," the redhead replied, grabbing her bookbag in one hand and standing.  "Thank you for the food, Kasumi—it was very good."

The pair bowed and ran outside.

"She walks in beauty like the night—of cloudless climbs and starry skies.  And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect, and her eyes."

"Kuno!" Ranma and Akane exclaimed.  Ranma's voice was amused, but Akane's had a decidedly rough edge.

Kuno smiled at them both, bowing to Ranma, and continued: "One shade more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o'er her face—"

"Raven tresses?  You're not allowed to talk to me, Kuno," Akane warned.

"...where thoughts serenely sweet express how pure, how dear their dwelling place." [6]

Ranma grinned, thinking Kuno had described Akane perfectly.  She clapped delightedly, but turned to see Akane fuming.  "You're not allowed to _talk_ to me!" she repeated.

"Lady Ranma, did you enjoy that?" he queried.

"It was pretty," Ranma admitted, unable to keep a wry smile off her face.

"I was reciting for your pleasure solely," he said quietly, a wry smile on his own features.  "Just so you know."

"Ah."  Ranma nodded wisely, then altered her expression when she met Akane's eyes, which were full of anger and scorn.

"I'll _die_ before I let some boy beat me!" Akane barked.

Kuno's grin slowly disappeared as Akane spun on her heel and continued towards the school.

"Do you know what that means?" Ranma inquired, staring after the other girl.

Kuno shook his head rapidly but silently.  "Why does she continue to surprise the both of us so?" he demanded finally.

Ranma shrugged.  "Because that's who she is," she said softly, an expression of puzzlement adorning her features.

Kuno blinked at the redhead.  "Indeed, that is so," he replied, but he kept staring at Ranma, who gazed unblinkingly after Akane.

"I want you to do something for me."

"What is this favor you ask?"

"I want you to apologize to Akane."  The redhead continued walking for several paces before she realized Kuno had halted in utter surprise.

"But... for what?"

Ranma tripped on her own feet.  "Heh... heh..."

"Did I offend her in some way?"

Ranma wondered, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, if Kuno understood just what a big dolt he was.  "Just apologize.  Don't say why, don't say what for.  Just apologize.  In the best way you know how."

Kuno considered for a moment.  "What you say is wise, Saotome Ranma.  If I have offended her in some way, this is my best chance to discover it."

"Ah... yeah," Ranma replied.  "What you said."  Ranma grimaced as she ran through all her problems in her head.  "Hey—one other thing.  Where did you get those photographs of me 'n Akane?"

"Those lovely shots were taken by Tendo Nabiki."

"Only Nabiki?"

Kuno paused, considering.  "Oh—no.  There was also that forgettable fellow, what's-his-name.  Ah.  Yes.  Gosunkugi.  Hikaru Gosunkugi."

For a moment, Ranma realized what people meant by 'seeing red'.  Her closed fists shook with repressed emotion.  "Oh, he is _so_ dead."

"Hm?"

"Well, what do you think, that me and Akane _liked_ our home being invaded like that?"

Kuno considered.  "But, it means that you are desired—desirable!  Isn't that what you want?"

Ranma growled, then forced herself to calm down.  "Look, I don't know where the hell you get your information on women, but we don't _exist_ to be admired."  Ranma didn't like how easily that 'we' had come to her lips, but she tried not to show it.

"I'm sure that's the way it seems to _you_..." Kuno replied.

Ranma's eyes widened briefly in surprise; could he really be that stupid?  Then her lip curled in disgust.  "If that's how you want it—on guard!"  Ranma brought her hands up in front of her and narrowed her eyes.

"But... Lady Ranma..."

"If you won't _listen _to sense, I'll have to _beat it in you_!"

"I... I apologize..."

"Too late!  I won't forgive you!" Ranma cried, and attacked.

Immediately, the redhead noticed something different in the way Kuno was attacking her.  To rephrase, he was _not_ attacking.  He dodged most of her efforts, simply taking a hit if and when he had no other option.  "Lady... Ranma... please!" he interjected.

Ranma took a deep breath and stepped back.  "Well, it is more of a beating, ain't it..."  She paused, blushing as she suddenly realized what she'd just done—and right after promising that gym teacher guy she wouldn't!  Boy, she could be so _dumb_ sometimes.  "Gee, Kuno, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have done that..."

"No... I am certain I needed... to be punished."

Ranma blushed again for a reason she couldn't quite define.  "I...I..." she stammered briefly before gathering herself together.  "Look, you've just got a lot to learn about girls, okay?"

"And you'll teach me?"

The redhead turned to face him, taking aback by the degree of hope in the boy's voice.  His expression was a bit more open, too: his usual smirk was in place, but his slightly widened eyes and the tilt of his chin indicated somehow that he was mocking himself all of a sudden.  "Yeah, maybe," she replied jauntily.  "If you behave yourself, that is."

They had finally reached the school; Kuno held the door open for her and she slipped inside.  "Don't worry, Lady Ranma," he replied with a smile.  "I trust you to give me a decent whap when I make a mistake."  With a cheerful wave, he took off down the hall in the opposite direction from the redhead.

Ranma sighed.  "Great.  A guy who likes to be hit by girls.  How do I get myself into these situations?"  After a moment, though, her expression of bemusement shifted to pure anger.  "When I get my hands on Hikaru, I'm going to murder him!"  She clenched her fist in front of her and growled.

"Wait, no, wait a minute.  I need to solve this without using violence.  But how am I going to do that?"

Ranma spent the greater part of the day chewing her pencil and staring off into space, scarcely paying any attention to her lessons.  Maybe she could just scare Hikaru?  Imply he'd be injured?  

_To fight because of boredom, or to show someone you're bigger and stronger is cowardice._  Akane had told Ranma she believed that, the very first time they'd met.  Even though it was less than a week ago it seemed like eons.  And though Ranma had been surprised to hear a martial artist say that at the time, it seemed to make a great deal of sense now, especially in light of the way she'd lost control yesterday.

A beam of warm sunlight illuminated Ranma's features.  She smiled, and closed her eyes.  She might just know a way—but she'd need Akane's help, and Mister Tendo's, too.

Ranma's blue eyes invariably drew to Akane, like magnet to lodestone.  It seemed like ever since she'd started hanging around Kuno, Akane had been getting more and more angry with her.  Although she'd accepted Ranma's apology last time—more or less—she appeared to have expected Ranma to give Kuno up.  And Ranma, having two friends in this world—three, if you counted Nabiki—was not willing to do such a thing.  Especially when the whole school appeared to be against her, otherwise.

Well, Ranma could link up the first plan with a second.  Oddly impressed with her own cleverness, Ranma began to focus on her lessons.

At break, she moved to the back of the room purposefully.

"What do _you_ want?" Hikaru demanded.

"Hmph," the redhead replied.  "Good.  And how are you?"

"Busy."

Ranma snatched his sketchbook briefly away.  "Interesting material," she said softly.  "You have Akane's eyes _just_ right."

"Give that back!"

"Listen, Hikaru," Ranma replied, dancing around him.  "_LISTEN!_  And you'll get it back."

The other boy froze.  "Why do you want to torment me?"

Ranma blinked at him.  "Boy, you have a soul after all.  Okay.  I'm willing to make a deal with you.  You're bored, aren't you?"

"Hm?"

"Well, you sit around all day, drawing and imagining stuff, and taking pictures..."

He gulped, and brought his hands in front of his face instinctively.

Ranma stared at him.  "Geez, kid."  She was suddenly even happier she hadn't decided to hit him.  "Listen up.  You don't take any pictures of either of us—you don't draw us or spread rumors about us—and I'm willing to give you something in return.  Are you even listening to me?"

Hikaru lowered his hands.  "I didn't—"

"You _did_," Ranma replied.  "Don't bother denying it.  And if I catch you doing it again–"  The redhead paused, unable to complete the thought.  What, exactly, would she do?  She couldn't hit this guy, not somebody so weak.

Apparently her little trail into nothingness and her thoughtful, faraway eyes caused Gosunkugi endless torment.  Ranma sighed; he had a way better imagination than she did, she guessed.

"W-w-what's the deal?" he stammered.

"I'll teach you martial arts," Ranma announced calmly.

There was a brief silence in which he blinked at her in sheer incredulity.  Then he began to laugh hysterically.  Several students turned to stare at the pair.

"Shh!"  Ranma pressed both hands against his mouth.  "Baka!  I'm serious!"

"Muh at's upith," he proclaimed.

"Huh?"  Ranma leaned back, removing her hands.

"That's stupid," he replied coldly.  "Look, Ranma, I don't know what game you're playing, but if you're going to beat me up for taking pictures of you, I'd rather you did it right now, rather than in some excuse for a training exercise."

"Clever."  It was the first thing that came to mind, although Ranma decided she probably shouldn't have said it aloud.  It seemed too much like a confirmation for her taste.

"Hah!  I know.  Besides, even _I_ know Anything-Goes Martial Arts isn't accepting any students.  The Tendo Training Hall's been closed for years."

Ranma brightened.  "That's where you're wrong.  I have another student already, training under me n' Akane."

"Oh yeah, who?"

Ranma smiled innocently, letting the question hang in the air a moment.  "Kuno Tatewaki."

"N-no way!"

"Way.  And Tendo's already given me his permission.  He said I'm far enough along in the art to begin teaching."  _Or at least, that's what I hope he'll do when I ask him._  "So whaddaya say, Hikaru?"

He slowly became slightly less guarded.  "U-uhm... why do you want me to train with you?" he inquired in a small voice.

"I want you to stop lurking around my yard without permission, that's why," Ranma replied tartly, "and I'd rather do it without beating you up.  Not that I couldn't," her pride forced her to tack on as she eyed him critically.  "Besides, I figure if you're busy with martial arts, you won't have the time to be so obsessively gloomy."

His face fell, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd gone too far.  "How do I know you've really got another student?" he demanded, but in a much less belligerent tone than the one he usually used when speaking to her.

"Baaaaka.  I thought you were the brilliant one."  She rapped him smartly on the forehead.  "Who else could've told me you were responsible for the ecchi photos?"

"I'll consider it," Hikaru finally replied after a long pause.

"You'll consider it," she replied, her voice dropping several degrees, "or _I'll_ have to consider my other options.  I'll give you 'til the end of lunch to decide."

When Akane met Ranma's gaze questioningly, the redhead winked.  She was new at this kind of stuff, but she was pretty sure she had him.  Not only that, but she'd done it with a minimum of threats and absolutely no violence.  

At lunch, seated under the infamous oak tree, Ranma explained her plan.

"Ranma, are you serious?  That's nuts!  We're not old enough to teach!  You're sixteen, like me—right?"

Ranma nodded.  "Doesn't matter.  I'm already way more skilled than most people _ever_ get."

"Well... me, too... but..."

"Besides, how hard can it be?  We just do it and they imitate us!"

"We—they?"  Akane raised her eyebrow.  "Saotome Ranma," she tacked on in a threatening voice.

Ranma laughed nervously.  "Well—you'll help me, won't you, Akane?"

Akane sighed.  "I guess.  It's just sparring, and I have to start again someplace.  But I don't ever want to have to hurt somebody again, Ranma."

"If you're good enough, you don't have to," Ranma replied.

Akane sniffed.  "There's always someone better.  Still... I guess you're kind of right..."

"Great!  Now our other student—the other half of the 'they'..."

"Lady Ranma!"

Ranma blinked.  "Speak of the devil!" she exclaimed.

Akane bristled.  "You don't mean to tell me that _he's_..."

"Akane Tendo."

Akane stared at Kuno.  "Oh, so you've decided to address me at last, upperclassman.  Guess your promises aren't worth much."

"Lady Ranma bid me speak, and so speak I must," he replied.  "Especially since both edicts came from her lips."  

Akane shot the redhead a murderous look; Ranma, in turn, tried to look innocent and placating at once, a look that said _please, endure this just one moment longer_.

"I must apologize," he continued.

Akane's neck swiveled so fast that Ranma was certain the Tendo girl would be getting whiplash.  "Huh?"

"I have been grievously unfair to you, dear Akane," he continued, his voice low and heartfelt.  "I cannot imagine how I could have done you such a wrong.  I beg forgiveness."  He knelt next to her.

Akane's eyebrows went up and down and her mouth opened and closed.

"Now, for what is it that I am sorry?" he inquired of Ranma, who attempted to shush him, too late.

When Akane whirled to silently stare at the redhead again, Ranma instantly resumed her _please understand what I'm trying to do here_ look.  "Heh.  Well, he's _trying_..."

"He sure is," Akane responded flatly.  "Upperclassman, I'm going to try to explain this just once more, and then never again.  Do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"I listed all your wrongs for you in the past.  A day or so ago, to be perfectly precise.  Despite what people sometimes say about me, I don't enjoy being cruel and so I won't enjoy repeating myself.  But you force me."

Ranma met Kuno's gaze.  She sensed that he, for once, was taking Akane Tendo seriously.  "Go on, madam," he implored.

Akane nodded.  "You have hounded me, most improprietously.  You made a challenge _for_ me, _about_ me, which I had no part in.  I did not appreciate boys swarming me every day.  You drove others away from me-- the girls in jealousy, and the boys because they'd begun to elevate me to the status of a goddess, a status that I did not want.  Either that, or they followed me around, undressing me with their eyes.  You _caused_ this situation, Kuno, and I am very, _very_ pissed off about it!"

"But... my lady?"  The second half of Kuno's query was directed towards Ranma, who nodded, giving him permission to speak.  "It was not I who created that situation; you did."

Akane blinked.  "Huh?"

"Your radiant beauty was not a secret before I shouted it o'er the rooftops; the other young men at school would have worshipped you and the other ladies would have been jealous were I never to have attended Furinkan."

Akane paused for a moment, obviously charmed.  "That's as may be," she finally replied, gathering herself.  "But you set up that entire challenge situation.  It's so demeaning, Kuno!"

"It seems more of a homage to your exquisite self," he countered.  "That fight is a shrine to your very desirability.  'Helen, thy beauty is to me, as—"

"Now is not the time to recite," Ranma snapped, feeling she had to save the situation as best she could.  "Now listen, Kuno.  Did you hear what she said?"

"She did not like to be fought over in such a manner," he repeated dutifully.

"It's no use, Ranma," Akane said in an angry, frustrated growl.  "He's repeating what I'm saying, but he doesn't understand."

Ranma fought with despair.  "Okay, look, Kuno.  Lemmie try to paint a picture for you."

"Inks?"

Ranma whapped him on the back of the head, as promised.  "Close your eyes, idiot."

"If you wish it."  Obediently, Kuno's eyes closed.

"Now, imagine _you're_ a girl.  Better yet... you're a girl who has your personality, unaltered.  You've got a girl's _body_."

Akane almost snickered.

"And all these guys are rushing you.  They're imagining having sex with you, and the sole reason they fight is because the little perverts are happy you touch them, even if it is with fists and feet.  This goes on for ages."

Akane broke in, sounding a lot less amused.  "They think you like hitting guys.  They even put whips and handcuffs in your locker as a joke—or as an invitation, you can't be sure which."

"And there's this one guy in particular, who keeps egging them on.  Full of himself,"

"skilled and all, really," Akane added, "though he seems to think he's god's gift-"

"who just from the fact that you're breathing and female assumes you'd want him."

"Do you understand?" they demanded in unison.

He opened his eyes.  "So the girl is Akane?"

"He can be taught!" Ranma exclaimed.  Seeing Kuno's hurt look, Ranma's eyes softened.  "You have to admit you've been pretty dense about this," she said in a slightly more reassuring tone.

"All of those boys are thinking of you as a sexual object?" he demanded of Akane.  "Why—if I thought that, I'd... I'd..."

"Much as I hate to ask this, and as much as I'm sure I'll regret it," Akane began timidly, "exactly how is it that _you_ think of me, upperclassman?  If not like that?"

Kuno put a hand to his heart in abject shock.  "Why—as my future wife of course!  The mother of my children!"

Ranma dropped further until her face was pressed into the dirt.

Akane merely started giggling despite best efforts.

"And you think..." Ranma mumbled.

Akane and Kuno leaned closed towards Ranma; it was hard to make out her words with her face pressed into the dirt like that.

"...you think that's what most of the boys want Akane for?  For a wife?"

The pair drew back.  

"Of course!" Kuno exclaimed.

"Handcuffs," Akane reminded him dryly.

"Perhaps they believed those things—the whip and the handcuffs..." he cleared his throat suddenly, "...would aid you in battle?"

Akane barked a laugh; Ranma mumbled something to the earthworms.

"...perhaps not..."  Kuno looked bemused.  "I must admit a concern for your welfare, then, Tendo Akane.  If all those boys..."

"I defeat them all the time, don't I?" Akane demanded in that same, dry tone.

"But... an ambush, or..."

"It's been done," Akane broke in.  She yawned, one hand flapping over her mouth unconcernedly.  "Boy, I'm sleepy!"

"Why, this is atrocious!" Kuno exclaimed.

Ranma put one hand up into the air to make a point.  Still to the earthworms, apparently, although Akane could guess what she was telling them.

"That is not what I wish of you, Tendo Akane," Kuno finally said calmly.

"Well, good to know."

"So you forgive me?  You'll go out with me?"

"No!" Akane exclaimed.  "Haven't you been listening?"

"But we've just cleared up this little misunderstanding between us!"

"Kuno—_I.  Don't.  Like.  You_.  And nothing you say is going to change that!  While you've elevated yourself slightly above the rest of the drooling horde just now, they have the moral integrity of pond scum in my book!  I _won't_ date with you and I don't want to marry you either!  Besides... I already have someone I like."

Ranma sighed, lifting her face out of the dirt and moving her fingers quickly through her bangs to dislodge particles of soil.  She thought she knew whom Akane was talking about.  A flash of glasses and Joi's barking came immediately to mind.

Kuno swallowed.  "I am sorry I have caused you so very much pain, Tendo Akane.  You will always have been my first love, and I will always admire your beauty, though it be from afar.  However—you need fear no more... overtures... from me."

Akane sighed in relief.  "Thank you, Kuno-sempai," she breathed.

"That said..." Ranma broke in with a grin.

"Oh, yeah," Akane recalled, sounding reluctant.

"Would you like to train with us?" Ranma queried.

"_Under us_," Akane stressed.  "We'd be your teachers."

"Does my Lady wish it of me?" 

Ranma considered.  "Kuno, it's your decision.  You've admitted to me that the two of us are better than you.  Well, we can help bring you up to speed—if you'll have us."  Ranma's face split into a grin.  "Besides, you need to learn more about girls— if you wanna survive, that is."

"Agreed, then: I shall walk the road of heaven[7].  When doth my training commence?"

"It just did," Ranma replied with a wry smile.  

It was what her father had first said to her when they set out for their very first training mission.  The idea that everything was training had somehow stuck with Ranma, far more than many of Genma's other ideas[8], and kept him sharp.  Even more than that, it had impressed upon the martial artist that all of life should be taken as a fun but complex challenge, a puzzle to be sorted out; it was Ranma's cornerstone and support, not just in martial arts but in everything.  Whenever a difficult situation came up, Ranma usually just thought of it as good training.

"I'm in training now?" Kuno inquired doubtfully.

"Yes," Ranma replied casually.  "Be outside to walk us home after kendo practice, okay?  Then you'll see what I mean."

Hikaru Gosunkugi came trotting up to the trio.  "H-hi," he stammered, revealing his nervousness.

Ranma put on her kindest expression; he was usually so defensive.  "Hey.  Made up your mind?"

The small boy nodded nervously.  "I've decided... okay.  Yeah.  If you can promise I won't get hurt."

"I can't do that," Ranma protested.  "You could easily pull a muscle or something.  I promise you won't get seriously injured, though, not if I can help it."

"It'll have to do," Hikaru replied.  "H-h-h-hi, Akane," he stammered, suddenly seeming to realize she was there.

"Hi, Hikaru," Akane said smiling at him.  

Hikaru mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'she _spoke_ to me!' and stared off into space with a dazed grin.  After Kuno jabbed him in the leg with his elbow accidentally-on-purpose, he came slowly out of his daze.  "S-so when do I start?"

Ranma made a mental note to keep him around Akane way more often.  He was a lot nicer!  "Right now."

"Thursday's good for—huh?"

Kuno smirked.  "Training has already begun," he intoned.  At a glare from Akane, his smirk dropped. "So I'm told," he added.

"Now?  I mean, _already_?  But... I'm not ready!  I'm not prepared!"

"Which is why we're training you."

"We?"

"Yeah, Akane and me," Ranma replied gamely.  This got the expected response.  "Well, maybe just me, at first," she conceded dryly.

Akane looked confused.  Boy, the girl just didn't know a guy liked her unless he ran at her screaming _AKANE, DATE ME!_, did she?  Maybe she'd just gotten way too used to that approach.

Ranma looked around at the three of them, suddenly feeling a great deal of significance attach to the moment.  Her first students.  Did she really know what she was getting into?  Akane was hard enough to handle, but Kuno was twice as difficult, if not more so.  And Hikaru was so defensive and prickly that she could scarcely speak to him without becoming angry herself.

_This will be good training_, she thought firmly.

*****-----*****

Gym class was so boring for Ranma that she ended up using it as an excuse to train.  "I saw you two," Akane said as the pair of them retrieved their belongings from their lockers.  "Poor Hikaru!  He looked half-dead!"

"I made him stretch," Ranma protested defensively.  "Besides, he has to know it'll be hard on him.  And I only made him jog around the gym three times!"

"He ran like the wind.  Jog my foot."

"He's fast for a beginner," Ranma noted, "and flexible, too.  Though man, he's graceless!  Well, we'll see."

"You're really serious about this!" Akane exclaimed.  Her expression clouded.  "I don't know how daddy's going to like the idea of us taking students."

"I'm going to have to leave it up to you to broach the subject with him," Ranma warned.  "I have work after school.  We could both do it at dinner, but something tells me you'd have more success than I would."

"Maybe," she conceded, pushing her hair behind one ear with a sweep of her hand.  

"I'm counting on you, Akane, so try your best, okay?"

Akane straightened perceptibly.  "I'll try!"  Then her face fell.  "Ranma, about Kuno..."

"Look—he'll keep hounding you for the rest of your life unless you deal with him," the redhead asserted.  "And I think that this is the best way.  You can teach him manners!"

Akane blinked for a moment as she considered this, but then she shook her head.  "You can't teach somebody manners like that.  I sure can't."

"But Akane, you taught _me_ manners!"

The dark haired girl colored.  "I... that is..."

Ranma was somehow oddly satisfied to see her stammer trail off into nothingness.  "Come on," she said.  "Let's get to class."

*****-----*****

Block.  Strike.  Weave.  Duck, stab.

"Point!"

Block.  Block.  Parry, feint.  Weave.  Swish!

"Point!"

Hop.  Block.  Block.  Parry.  Block.  Weave.  Sweep.  Duck.  "Oof!"

"Point!"

Lean, block, crossguard strike, weave, swish swish swish!  Strike!

"Point—third point and match, to Tatewaki Kuno!"

"You got one past me, underclassman.  It takes a great man to have the ability to strike a Kuno.  You are fierce."  He bowed.

"You flatter me, sempai!"  The freshman bowed too, flushing from more than the exercise and obviously suffering from—or enjoying—a staggering amount of hero-worship.

Kuno turned.  "Lady Ranma!"

"Patterns, patterns everywhere," Ranma replied.  "Your students don't seem to think."

"Heh!  Well, indubitably _you_, at least, will point out my flaws.  Shall we go?"

Ranma stood, followed by Akane, who brushed her skirts fastidiously, avoiding Kuno's eyes.  "I have to go to work, so Akane-san will have to take up your training after three.  And if she tells me you've misbehaved, I shall be most put out."

Akane raised an eyebrow at the redhead, who winked.  She'd gotten the hang of how to deal with Kuno surprisingly quickly.  It was becoming an instinct by now.

Kuno paused in walking to bow deeply in Akane's direction.  "I would not dream of insulting her, nor would I dare."

"Good to hear.  Are you ready, Sir Kuno?"  Ranma's voice was light and full of mischief.

"I am."

Ranma pointed up to the fence beside her.  "Then—up!"  The redhead's feet left the ground as though she'd merely pushed off.  She landed on the fence, balancing easily on one foot, her other knee pulled to her chest and both arms out.  "Come on, Kuno!  Akane!"

Akane frowned.  "Not 'til he does.  I don't want him to see up my skirt."

Tatewaki Kuno blinked up at the redhead, his expression anxious.  "Why—madam—I am not sure—"

"And 'not sure' and a dollar will get you a ride to Tokyo Tower, young student.  Up!"

Kuno visibly gulped, but put his briefcase down and jumped.

He almost landed on Ranma, who managed to leap back several feet just in time.

Waving his arms wildly for balance, he almost managed to hit the other girl several times.  "If I'm defeated by your ineptitude alone," Ranma said snidely, ducking as one of Kuno's flailing arms narrowly avoided slapping her, "I'll never forgive you."

Suddenly he steadied, as if by magic.  Ranma peered behind him to see that Akane had grabbed his shoulder.  "Calm down," she said in a surprisingly even voice, "or you'll fall straight off of here."

The redhead blinked.  Akane was standing on the fence like she did it every day, her feet bare—she had removed her shoes and socks, and held both her bag and Kuno's in one hand.  Otherwise, she looked as collected and comfortable as if she were standing on solid ground.

Ranma's eyes moved back to Kuno, who was wobbling only slightly, now.  In contrast to Akane, he appeared oddly discomfited.

"Turn," Ranma commanded.

Kuno blinked at her.  "H-how much?"

"All the way around," Akane commanded, " 'til you're facing me."

Ranma nodded; Akane was anticipating her.

Kuno blinked.  "I... I'm not sure I can keep my legs like..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"  Akane lifted the kendoist bodily and turned him around.

Ranma stared, unabashedly amazed.  Akane had lifted Kuno like he was made of balsa wood!

Kuno appeared to be similarly startled, but Akane either did not notice or did not care that the pair were staring at her like they'd never seen her before.[9]

"Walk," Ranma commanded, shaking off her surprise.

Akane began to stride forward, her arms out for balance.  "Well?" she called over her shoulder.

Kuno continued, too, arms out, walking carefully down the chain-link fence, Ranma close behind him, watching for any sign he was about to tip.  Akane, for her part, did not appear to need such babysitting.  She kept her arms out, but that small concession to the danger was the only one she paid; her strides were smooth and she did not seem nervous in the slightest.

"Keep up!" Akane ordered, as though walking at an everyday pace on the top of a fence was a perfectly normal thing to do.  

Kuno and Ranma followed her, albeit slightly more slowly.  After a moment, Ranma put her arms down, convinced Kuno was not about to fall.  In movement, it was somehow easier to keep balance; he was moving more smoothly, now, his steps more assured.

After several minutes, they finally arrived at the Tendo house.  Akane dismounted, her skirt flying up to her waist and revealing to the world that she had chosen to wear polka-dotted panties that day.

With a groan, Kuno fell off of the fence face-first, a trickle of blood running out of one nostril.

"Whoops."  Akane frowned at the fallen boy.

"You did that on purpose," Ranma accused dryly.

The Tendo girl gasped.  "Did not!"  But her lips twitched as she turned on her heel to go get her gi.

Kasumi came sweeping towards the genkan as the pair entered the Tendo home.  "Who is your guest, Ranma?"

"Oh!"  Ranma grinned.  "Sorry.  This is Kuno Tatewaki."

Kasumi's smile widened.  "Oh my, how wonderful!  Father, Ranma has a guest!"

Soun came in from the dojo looking slightly sweaty in his brown gi.  "Ah, who's this?"

Kuno bowed.  "Kuno Tatewaki, at your service."  He cleared his throat.  "There are those who call me Kuno."

"I see."  Soun's smile widened in exactly the same fashion as Kasumi's had.

Ranma and Kuno were startled into exchanging a wary glance with one another.  Kuno frowned in consternation.  "You told me you'd let me know when I said or did something inappropriate," he accused in a slight undertone.

She shrugged helplessly.  "Sorry – I'm as confused as you are."  She turned back to the pair.  "Kuno's a martial artist," she added to Kasumi and Soun, who were still looking like they'd won the lottery.

"Why, how marvelous!" Kasumi exclaimed.  "Kuno-san, would you like some tea?"

"Kuno-san?  Did I hear _Kuno-san_?"  Nabiki came down the steps like a gazelle, using her weight and momentum to bound down until she was face-to-face with the increasingly uncomfortable Ranma and Kuno.

"I'll go make some tea," Kasumi finished without a discernible break.

"I hope your intentions are honorable with our Ranma," Soun admonished, draping an arm around the redhead's shoulders.

Kuno blinked.  "I think you misunderstand."

Nabiki placed one hand over her mouth in utter shock.  "You're dating!"

Akane followed her sister down the stairs.  "I'm..." she trailed off at the tense tableau with which she was confronted.  "...ready?"

"She's not my lover, she's my _sensei_," Kuno broke in.

Ranma whapped him across the back of the head.

"Ow!  What was that for!"

"For saying something inappropriate," Ranma replied dryly.

Kuno observed the shade of red currently decorating Soun's face and sighed.  "You didn't tell him.  How was I supposed to know?"

"Oh wow, this is _great_," Nabiki murmured to herself.  "Where's the tape recorder when you need it?"

"Daddy, I can explain," Akane said quickly.  "Ranma and I thought it might be a good time to reopen the dojo – that is, if it's okay with you.  We only asked two people if they might be interested.  We thought... maybe..."  She offered up wide eyes and a trembling lower lip.

Soun shook his head.  "Akane, how could you even consider asking students to the dojo without my permission, much less consider asking them to train under you?"

"It's my fault," Ranma broke in.  "I asked Hikaru and Tatewaki, not Akane."

Soun paused.  "Well, there's no use sending them away now, is there?  For now,  Akane, you two are not training anyone – you are simply practicing with fellow students of the art.  Do you understand?"

Akane looked chastened.  "Yes, daddy."

Soun turned to the redhead.  "Ranma?"

"Yes, uh..."  Ranma blushed as she attempted to search her mental databanks for something to call the man.  She frowned.  "Er, yes, I understand."

Soun's lips quirked and he shrugged.  "Well, son," he said to Kuno, bowing formally, "welcome to Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes."

*****-----*****

Ranma moved to put her nurse's apron on immediately.  Even though she'd already told Tofu-sensei that she didn't like it, he'd insisted, saying that not only did her street clothes appear unprofessional, but that he wouldn't want them to get spattered with blood.

Despite the ruffles, his words had managed to change her mind immediately.

"Ranma!"  Doctor Tofu moved into the back room where Ranma was finishing tying the apron's bow at the small of her back.  "How are the Tendos?"

"Uhm... they're fine, sir.  Akane's good, Nabiki seems cheerful... Kasumi seems really keen on my finding a boyfriend..."

"K-K..."

"Uhm, doctor?"  Ranma hadn't known that Tofu's little fits could be brought on by Kasumi's _name_.  It was just too much!  She backed away quietly as he twitched.  "Doctor?"

"Hm?"  The doctor finally began to realize where he was again.  "Oh yes!  I came in here to tell you we've got our work cut out for us today and I may need you to stay late.  If that isn't a problem?"

"Uhm... I have an engagement, but I'll stay as late as I can."

"Fair enough," the doctor replied with a smile.  "You're going to get to do some actual medicine here today, Ranma.  We've got a lot of patients because of a stomach virus that's going around.  In fact, I'd like you to move Mr. Hibiki to the back room, please.  He's asleep again, and doesn't need any immediate treatment."

"Again?  He woke up?!"

Tofu nodded.  "Briefly and deliriously.  He's pulling through, Ranma, but it's a tough fight.  Just wheel his cot back, if you please."

She nodded and, tightening her apron with a determined expression, set to work. 

The influx of patients wasn't rapid, but it was steady enough to keep Ranma extremely busy.  It seemed that just as Tofu released a patient, a new one would take his place.  The doctor would check the patient's tongue and ears, take his temperature, and hand out a prescription for an antibiotic.  After the sixth patient thanked the pair and moved to go, Ranma probably could have done Tofu's routine herself.  

Every now and then she would check on Ryoga, although his condition seemed pretty stable and he didn't have much of a fever anymore.  He turned and mumbled once in awhile, but other than the occasional nightmare he appeared to be much better than the day before.

One little kid, overtaken by the virus and without much control, threw up all over everything.  Repeatedly.  The redhead scrubbed and held her breath.

Once in the day, Ranma changed Ryoga's bandages—an unpleasant but necessary task.  The black had receded to a small spot the size of a quarter, and the redness that surrounded it had shrunk to the size of her palm.  The girl nodded, satisfied, applying more antiseptic cream and new gauze.  Ryoga really did have the healing abilities of a high-caliber martial artist.

Martial arts!  Ranma's eyes flew to the clock and she felt a sinking sensation surround her stomach as she realized she'd missed Hikaru's training session. 

At least Akane had probably been there to do it for her.  In fact, she'd probably still been helping Kuno when Hikaru arrived.  Thank goodness for small favors.  She'd simply let the time get away from her.

Immediately Ranma moved to her desk and picked up the phone.  "Hey, Nabiki.  Is Akane there?"

Nabiki's caustic voice sounded on the other end of the line.  "Boy are you in trouble, Saotome."

"Heh.  I know that, I know that.  Things are really crazy over here at the clinic."

"Just a sec and I'll get my sister."

Ranma waited, the sinking sensation in her stomach getting worse with every passing moment.  She found herself tapping her foot.

"Hello?"

"Hiya Akane," Ranma said, her tone of voice telling of her shame and apology already.  "I'm really sorry I didn't make it.  Everyone's getting this stomach virus and I was stuck here—I didn't even realize how much time had passed."

"Well..."  Akane's voice trailed off.  "It was kind of a disaster, Ranma."

"What?  Why?!"

"I couldn't get Hikaru to do what I wanted him to, and then he and Kuno got in a fight about it."

"_Hikaru_ wouldn't do what _you_ wanted him to?" Ranma demanded incredulously.

"Maybe couldn't," Akane admitted, sounding nervous.  "Maybe I went too fast?"

Ranma grimaced.  She had really wanted this to work out; beyond her desire to practice martial arts and pass those skills on to others, she had really wanted to help Hikaru.  He seemed like he could be a really nice guy if he just let his guard down once in awhile.  The sinking sensation seemed to drag her through several sheets of bedrock.

"Ranma?"

"Sorry, thinking.  It's okay, Akane.  We'll just try again tomorrow, all right?  It's really all my fault.  I'll be there next time, I swear."

"No, it was my fault.  Daddy wasn't upset, if that's any consolation."

Ranma sighed in relief.  "Great, but—"

A crash sounded from the back room.

"Listen, Akane, I've got to go.  I think Ryoga's actually awake!  I'll talk later."  She hung up the phone, hoping Akane wouldn't be offended by her haste.  "Doc!" she called.  "Our patient's up!"  

Ranma jogged to the door and opened it.

What she saw almost shocked her to inaction.

Two figures struggled in the darkness: Ryoga, and what was obviously a female.  Ryoga was losing badly, greatly weakened by his injury; the other figure in the darkened room was taking advantage of this fact.  As Ranma blinked in sheer incredulity and denial of the scene before her, the female figure punched Ryoga right in his wounded ribs.

The boy let out a truly agonized scream and staggered back, clutching his wound with one hand.

Ranma finally re-gathered her sense and switched on the light.  Both combatants turned to stare at her.

Ryoga's eyes were wild and unreasoning, bestial almost, and for a moment Ranma thought he was going to rush _her_ simply from the look in his eyes.  The other figure was...

"It's you!" Ranma exclaimed.  "The Amazon!"

Shampoo's eyes narrowed and she smiled, apparently overwhelmed by her own luck.  "Ranma," she announced, flipping the sai in her hands.  "Good to see."

"Shit," the redhead announced.

"Ranma, what is it?  He's awa..."  Doctor Tofu trailed off as he viewed the situation.  Stepping in front of Ranma, he spoke to the purple-haired girl.  "You are not welcome here, miss.  I suggest you leave."

Shampoo probably didn't understand him, but she caught the implied threat anyway.  She laughed, a high, crystal clear sound, like crushed glass.  She beckoned to the doctor.

With a sudden lunge that took both Ranma and the doctor by surprise, Shampoo stabbed at Ryoga with her sai.  Ryoga, who had not been staring at the doctor as Shampoo had, was ready for her, and dodged.

Tofu-sensei moved to intercept the Juketsuzoku maiden, his eyes hard.

"Ryoga, get behind me!" Ranma ordered, placing herself between Shampoo and her patient.

The Chinese girl's eyes narrowed as she stared at Ranma, her lip curling in disgust.  "Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken!" she exclaimed suddenly.

Ranma fell back, the air pushed abruptly out of her lungs, as if Shampoo had his her hundreds of times, rather than just once.  She dropped to her knees, coughing and gasping.

All of a sudden, Shampoo slumped, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Tofu Ono was revealed as she fell, his hand still rigid from the final strike.  He blinked down at the girl's sleeping form, the only one left on his feet.  "Are you all right, Ranma?  Ryoga?"

A smile appeared to be deciding whether or not it had any business on Ranma's face.  She'd never been saved by anyone before.  With a self-depreciating shrug, the redhead took Tofu's hand and pulled herself to her feet.  "I'm fine," she replied.  "Just had the wind knocked out of me."

"Ryoga?" Tofu queried.

Ryoga stood with the help of his cot, pulling himself to his feet.  "Uh—this may seem like a sort of weird question, but... uh, how do you two know my name?  And  where am I?"

"You don't recognize Ranma, here?" Tofu queried.  "She said she knew you from junior high."

The redhead winced, but managed to smile at Ryoga in a pained sort of way anyway.  What she'd been fearing had happened—about ten minutes after Ryoga had woken up.  

"But that's impossible," Ryoga predictably replied.  "I went to an all-boy's junior high."

Tofu blinked, watching as Ranma colored.  "Oh.  Oh!" the doctor suddenly exclaimed.  "I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything, dear," he announced to Ranma.  He put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  "I didn't realize."

"Realize what?" Ryoga demanded.

"Well, Ranma here has been raised as a boy," Tofu replied.  "Everyone must have thought she _was_ a boy, at the time.  She must have been enrolled in school as a boy as well."

"Huh?" Ryoga demanded.  "A boy?  Why..."  Suddenly, it seemed like he'd frozen solid.  "Ran-ma...?" he queried.  He peered at the redhead with new eyes.  "Ranma _Saotome_?"

Tofu nodded, patting the redhead on the back.  "See?  There's no need to be so nervous, Ranma.  I'm sure that Ryoga here doesn't mind that you're a girl."

Ranma just continued to stare at her feet.  "Eh..." she finally managed to murmur.

Ryoga mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a curse.  He looked extremely confused, and the redhead didn't exactly blame him.  If she'd suddenly found out Ukyo was a girl or something, she'd be blown away.  

"You should feel very lucky that your friend Ranma found you at all," Tofu added helpfully, not seeming to notice the silence of the two teenagers.  "She and Akane pulled you out from underneath a bush in Nerima Public Park.  Without the two of them, and the other Tendo sisters, you'd almost certainly be dead by now."

Ryoga's expression, if anything, fell even more.  "You mean—Ranma saved my life?"

"It wasn't anything like _that_," Ranma assured the floor tiles.  "The other girls did way more than me, I just sat there kind of uselessly, waiting for the doctor."

"And changed Ryoga's bandages every day as well, Ranma; don't forget that."  The doctor turned to address Ryoga.  "Shortly after that, Ranma became my assistant, and she's tended to you very faithfully."

Ranma frowned.  "Doc, you're making it sound like—"

"You did?"  Ryoga was staring at Ranma with an almost painful amount of disbelief etched across his features.

"You have a problem with that?" Ranma demanded, one eyebrow raised, her voice cool.

"Now the question is, what do we do with _her_?" Tofu queried, nudging Shampoo with one foot.

Ranma blinked, almost having forgotten her would-be murderer.  A very stupid thing to do, she decided.  "She's probably here without a passport, not to mention the fact that she hurt Ryoga," the redhead proclaimed.  "We could probably have her deported."

Tofu looked at the sleeping purple-haired girl in pity.  "I wonder why she came all this way."

Ranma for her part had no compunctions about seeing the Juketsuzoku warrior as a common criminal.  She knew the girl to be a fierce hunter who had stalked her across the greater part of China, and all for no easily discernible reason.  Of course, the girl's honor had been slightly besmirched by being so easily defeated, but that was no reason to murder somebody!  It had been a friendly match, after all—or so Ranma had thought at the time.

Ryoga moved to gingerly lower himself to the edge of his cot, hissing in pain.  "A girl," he mumbled to himself in a low voice.  He snuck a glance at Ranma from under his lashes, quick but scanning, and Ranma knew he wasn't lamenting over being beaten by Shampoo.

"Eh heh," Ranma tittered nervously.  "We should tie her up, don't you think?"  She moved to the closet where Tofu kept supplies for repair and found a length of nylon cording.  In moments, Shampoo was tied to one of the large benches in Tofu's main office.

The doctor released the pressure point, waking the Amazonian maiden.  For a moment, Shampoo seemed startled, confused.  She thrashed wildly before Tofu's soft voice calmed her.  He knelt next to her and began speaking, trying out different dialects of Chinese.

While Ranma paid as close attention to their hushed conversation as she could, trying to catch the occasional word or phrase, Ryoga seemed to be attempting to light the redhead on fire with his gaze.  "What?!" she demanded, but Ryoga turned away.

Tofu-sensei stood.  "Ranma, would you call the police, please?"  His face was very pale.

"Y-yeah," she stammered in reply, and strode over to her desk in the waiting room.

Shampoo looked at the Ranma, then Ryoga, and trilled something that sounded question-like.  Tofu responded, sighing, his hands rubbing his temples.

"What is it?" Ryoga demanded nervously.  

"I don't like what I've just heard.  There are three important pieces of news here, and none of them are particularly sunshine and roses."

Shampoo was staring at Ryoga, a curious look in her eyes.  Tofu kept a close watch on her.  

"This girl here—Shan Pu—wishes to _kill_ Ranma.  If an outsider female defeats her, she is required to kill her.  By law.  That or some other things that Shampoo didn't appear to want to get into.  Apparently death is the most honorable thing you can do, not just for yourself but for the person who defeated you."

The redhead sighed upon her return, running her hands through her hair.  "I heard that.  As in... the other option is a fate _worse_ than death?  That is what you're saying, isn't it, doc?"

Tofu attempted to smile, but what ended up happening was that one side of his lip twitched, like he had a nervous tic.

"Lots of people out to kill you," Ryoga murmured to himself, running one hand distractedly through his hair.

"Excuse me?"

Ryoga lifted his head, startled.  "Did I say something?"  

The redhead's jaw firmed as she turned back to the doctor.  "What else?"

"There seems to be a... problem.. with Ryoga's injury," Tofu said.

"What kind of problem?" Ryoga demanded.  "I'm not going to die or anything, am I?"  He laughed nervously.

And Shampoo, knowing the word 'die' very well, since she'd practiced saying it in Japanese, looked up from her scrutiny of Ryoga and nodded cheerfully.

*****-----*****  
*****-----*****

Author's Notes:  Whoo!  This was a difficult chapter to put together.  A great deal of it ended up being cut, and as a result, I combined chapters five and six to make the length fit.  Originally, there was a cute, quirky little scene with Hikaru's training (at school, in the gym) but it really didn't fit with the rest of the story I was going for. 

Yes, I know that Tofu says that there are three pieces of news and only informs Ranma and Ryoga about two of them.  He's keeping the last piece to himself for now.

I also know that what Shampoo has told Tofu is a contradiction of what she learned from Genma.  She obviously knows that Ranma is a boy, and therefore she needs must marry him rather than kill him.  But _she_ is keeping that to herself.  ;)

Are you actually beginning to like Kuno at this point?  He's been my favorite character to write in this series.

  


* * *

[1] "Crap!  Do you know where (we are)?"  The 'crap' is in surprise, in case you missed it.  ;)

[2] Roughly, "that's right, she's Chinese."  More or less what Shampoo just said to him.  (Onegai shimasu, to those of you who can actually speak this language with any eloquence!)

[3] "Can't you understand me?  Geez.... ah, well, there's no help for it."  Correct my grammar... _please_!

[4] No, he is _not_ giving Shampoo the bird.  In America, we use the middle finger to tell somebody to go and &^* themselves.  In Britain, where people are apparently more... ahem... active, they use two fingers.  In Japan, raising that finger and placing it before you can mean you are attempting to make a point.  ;)

[5] Used to celebrate a woman's "coming of age" i.e. menses.  I've heard it's for any kind of milestone in somebody's life, but in most cases it seems to refer specifically to the aforementioned condition.

[6] Lord Byron, _She walks in Beauty_

[7] Ten= heaven, do= road, path.   Well, Kuno had to make a corny joke eventually...

[8] Luckily....

[9] Yes, this Akane is far more kickass than is implied in the canon version.  If Kuno could overpower her, I don't think he would have let her break his leg.  (Also, I do wonder what Akane's level of skill truly was at the beginning—she seemed to be a pretty cool fighter before everyone else arrived to show her up.)


	6. Ryoga's Curse

Nope. Don't own 'em. Nope. Or I wouldn't be working in a flower shop.

I highly recommend **avoiding the footnotes until the end, then referring back**. For those of you who find scrolling down or up very annoying, I've found a way to make each footnote a link when you read this on the website. Then you can click the back button and be exactly where you were in the story. Visit the site at always appreciated. Flames wilt the flowers.  
  
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----------  
  
Shampoo eyed her captors warily. All men. All _outsider _men. And she was bound.  
  
Dear Gods, what would her great-grandmamma think of the situation? Of her, for allowing it? But how was she to know that one amongst them had some knowledge of the pressure points?  
  
She could hear her grandmother's voice berating her: _Shan Pu, foolish, foolish child. A true warrior is always ready, or always working towards readiness. Always have I admonished you to never underestimate your opponent; and yet here you are, captive of a wounded man, a small, buxom girl-thing, and a weak man doctor, for the simple reason that you assumed you could conquer them in a breath. _  
  
Shampoo averted her eyes in shame; then, almost against her will, her mahogany eyes slipped around the man-doctor to Ryoga, who was heaving and panting heavily, his own dark gaze fixed to hers. The older man was attempting to babble Chinese at her. The proud warrior blocked out the noise until he uttered a word she could not ignore.  
  
"Juketsusokou?"  
  
Shampoo's head snapped up. "Juketsuzoku," she corrected. "I wasn't aware that your people knew of us."  
  
"It's rare," he replied, shifting his glasses higher up onto his nose with one finger. "I make it my business to know of the magic and lore that surrounds us." His Chinese was accented, but it was easy for her to make out. 

"Witch-doctor," she pronounced. "Magician." 

"You could say so. But your people are nothing more than a legend to me. Forgive me, but you seem awfully reasonable for someone come to murder one of my patients. There must be a reason you have hunted Ryoga all this way. And Ranma, too, unless I am mistaken – or unless _you_ mistook one for the other." 

Shampoo froze as she worked this out. 

"That's right," the doctor replied with a slightly self-satisfied smirk. "Of course I know. I could scarcely call myself a doctor if I couldn't tell. Ranma's curse is very interesting to me – and so is the psychological impact of a young man remaining a young woman for what appears to be indefinitely." 

The young Amazon stiffened, glancing at Ryoga and Ranma; but neither evinced comprehension of what Tofu had just revealed. She turned to raise a plum eyebrow in the doctor's direction. "You're right. It's... interesting to me, too. However – Ryoga concerns myself and my people far more." 

"How's that?" 

Shampoo's eyes narrowed. "Think I should give information out like sweets on a holiday? Foolish Outsider! The Juketsuzoku guard their secrets!" 

The doctor smiled unpleasantly. "I know the pressure point that causes truthfulness." 

The purple-haired Amazon paused. "The one that also causes other sorts of behavior." Her tone was flat, but she wondered whether the doctor could hear the quiet desperation beneath. "I... suppose that it would do no harm to tell you what you face. But first you must tell me your name, and your family name." 

He nodded. "Ranma you know; family name, Saotome. Ryoga's family name is Hibiki. Doctor Tofu Ono is my name, and I do wish we could've met under better circumstances. Do go on." He smiled for the first time, and it was a warm smile, and reassuring. 

Shampoo let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding; he had the ability to _seem_ approachable, at least. "The boy's wound was grave," she replied. "Moreover, the beast that dealt the blow was not an ordinary monster. It was a Clatha, a beast whose poison slowly replaces the chi of its victims, until the victim is a living husk. Once the person's chi is entirely replaced, he follows the will of whomever commanded the original beast." 

Tofu stared at her. "I have misunderstood your dialect –" 

"There's no misunderstanding," Shampoo cut in. "The Clatha's poison will eventually kill the boy, and no mistake." 

"But why try to murder Ryoga, then?" Tofu bit off. "He seems to be well on his way to death entirely without your help!" 

Shampoo shook your head. "You hear the half you wish to hear, magician. _He will follow the will of whomever commanded the original beast._ The boy will become an evil thing like the Clatha. His spirit will die within him until there is nothing left of what had once been his soul. Now do you understand?" 

The doctor stared at her, his face pale. "Yes," he whispered. "But – but why have you, in particular, been sent to kill him? Who sent you?" 

The Amazon girl took a deep, steadying breath and averted her eyes. "The original monster passed through our lands, killing two innocent boy-children who were wandering too far from the village. As for me, I'm the best warrior of my generation; and I was bound for a quest already."

"Ranma," Tofu supplied. 

"Ranma," Shampoo echoed. "Ranma was to be my bounty – and now my bride, I suppose, if he refuses to change shape. For that matter, I'm to bring you back as well." 

Tofu blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"Not familiar with our laws at all, are you?" Shampoo inquired, not unkindly. "Any man who beats me is bound to marry me; any woman who does goes on my list of enemies. Understand?"

"What?!" 

The Amazon grinned, happy to have the upper hand with this strange Outsider for once. "No mistranslation there, either, Airen. You are most certainly mine." 

Tofu flinched. "And... how are you to return to China with two unwilling martial artists, both exceeding your skill?" He frowned. "For that matter, how were you supposed to defeat a woman who's better at fighting than you are?" 

The purple-haired girl paused, taken aback. "I..." 

"Besides which, can't some better-skilled warrior venture from your village to kill anyone who threatens your society?... wait, no, that would take away part of the purpose behind the thing..." 

"What are you talking about?" Shampoo demanded. 

Tofu laughed, a warm inviting sound. "It's a silly bunch of laws you've got there, young lady. I'm not marrying you in any case. I've got my heart set on someone else." He paused to shake his head again in helpless laughter. "Besides, attempted murder isn't the best way to this man's heart." 

She squirmed and struggled against her bonds, wanting to hit him more than anything in the entire universe, her face turning red from embarrassment and anger. 

He took pity on her for the first time. "So, is there a cure for our friend?" 

"There's no cure for the boy!" Shampoo snapped. 

"Why do you keep calling Ryoga 'boy'?" Tofu inquired. "He's at least your age, if not a year or two older." 

Shampoo turned her head haughtily away from the doctor, not wanting to explain; however, she understood herself better than she let on. Despite having learned Ryoga's name, she had no wish to use it. She preferred 'boy', 'target', 'monster'... anything but his name. It had been difficult enough to see his face, to hear him speak. She glanced at Ryoga with undisguised pity. It did not mean that she would not do what she had to in order to preserve the tribe, as well as the life of her ungrateful new husband – but she didn't have to like it. 

"In any case," he murmured, as though she had replied, "I'll find a cure. It's what I do. And I'm even better at it than I am at stopping foolish children like you." 

"No one can find what doesn't exist," Shampoo said, "and I'll continue coming at the beast until it lies dead. This I swear by my Sisters. Do you hear?" 

Tofu stood, looking down at her gravely. "Ranma...", he said, turning to the redhead. And then he spoke to her in a tone of command, uttering something in Japanese.[1] 

"What was that?" Shampoo had caught the word 'please'; but she could tell what he'd wanted from the redhead, because ten minutes later, the police were there to pick her up.  


  
-----  


  
Ranma suspected that this was something like being hung over. She felt drained, displaced, headachy, dizzy, and... was that...? Yes! A small splattering of vomit on the edge of her lacy, effeminate apron.[2]  
  
Make that _exactly_ like being hung over.  
  
There was also despair on the edges, waiting to get into her consciousness, but the vague numbness appeared to be heading it off at the pass. One of the only friends she remembered from her childhood was going to die. Nastily. Ranma tried to dredge up some kind of feeling, some sort of emotion about it, but she was still blinking dazedly, trying to take in all that Tofu-sensei had explained to them. Tofu himself had disappeared into his office to make a few calls, telling them that he would start work on Ryoga's cure immediately, not to give up hope; but he had also informed the pair, in no uncertain terms, exactly what Shampoo had told him. There was very little chance the Amazon was wrong.  
  
Ryoga himself appeared to be taking it even worse than she was, she noted; although that was, she supposed, only to be expected, the life in question being his. Still, it was jarring to see his too-dark eyes in that pale face, with dark circles standing out boldly underneath, a cool sweat on his forehead. Most disturbing was the expression in his eyes, some kind of macabre acceptance, a sort of mad comprehension, almost as if he expected the worst to happen, and now it had. "Hey, well," he managed hoarsely, "I mean, why not weird monsters? If it wasn't that, it'd have been a rock slide, or some kind of spell or curse, or maybe some dragons or something.[3] Sure! I mean, I wander all over the damned planet! Something like this was bound to happen someday!"  
  
Ranma sat frozen for a moment, wondering how she could have possibly divined Ryoga's thoughts from his eyes. Didn't girls do that, though? Didn't they sometimes understand others, just because? Wasn't that women's intuition?  
  
Ryoga had stood, and was pacing the floor, agitated beyond the ability to be static, to be silent. "And why not me? It isn't enough that I can't find my way from the front door to the bathroom, it isn't enough that I haven't seen my parents or my house for five years, it isn't enough that life's a dark and lonely place...!" A strange, manic energy was growing around the Lost Boy, writhing and twisting around his pacing form.  
  
Ranma frowned, interested for the first time since Tofu-sensei's inspiring announcements. "Ryoga..."  
  
"...It isn't enough that my sworn enemy turns out to be nothing but a woman!" he murmured, half aware of her call.  
  
The redhead's blue eyes widened. Ryoga's aura was now a pitch black and kelly green mass that distorted half of the office, a dark perversion of chi. "Ryoga!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "What do you think you're doing?! Stop that, damn it!" Then Ranma was moving towards him, and she felt as though the feeling had flooded back into her self, into her soul. Joi ran out to Ryoga and began to yap at him, but the Lost Boy was scarcely distracted from his rantings.  
  
"IT ISN'T ENOUGH THAT ALL MY DREAMS HAVE DIED, ONE BY ONE!!! IT ISN'T ENOUGH THAT EVERYONE I'VE EVER KNOWN HAS DESERTED ME!!! IT ISN'T ENOUGH THAT I'LL NEVER HAVE A HOME!!!! IT ISN'T ENOUGH THAT I'LL NEVER BE LOVED!!!!"  
  
Ranma felt her entire body begin to tremble with the force of Ryoga's burning chi, forcing her back. He would burn himself out if he kept this up! What was wrong with him?!   
  
More cause for wonder was the sheer amount of chi bundled around his violently trembling frame. His features were almost completely obscured by the swirling eddies of dark, violent, and depressive chi tumbling around him as he stood in the eye of the hurricane.  
  
Tofu-sensei rushed from his office, exclaiming at the huge whirlwind of chi before them.  
  
The redhead's mind was running in panicked circles. _Dear Kami-sama above, what if the Amazon girl was right? What if he is going to do something terrible?_ Then, _what IS he doing? All that chi, just swirling, going around him, and..._ A terrible thought occurred to her. _A chi blast. _Ranma had only ever seen a chi blast a handful of times; one of the masters she had encountered in China had known the trick. He had warned her that if the chi blast became too large, it could burn the caster to ashes when released. He had warned her that a chi blast that huge was something of a last resort, used when a martial artist believed his own life less important than his enemy's death.  
  
All this swam through Ranma's mind; she was drowning in spinning thoughts, in spinning chi. Ryoga's would-be blast would soon engulf Tofu-sensei's entire practice. "My God," she heard Tofu breathe behind her. He began murmuring something, a protective enchantment, perhaps.  
  
Ranma blocked him away from her thoughts. Watching Ryoga destroy himself was possibly the scariest and most painful thing she'd ever witnessed. He'd begun to laugh, strange and high-pitched and obviously half-mad with pain and power. Ranma spared a moment to marvel at the great martial artist Ryoga Hibiki could have been if he'd lived.  
  
Then, she heard, "RANMA! RANMA!!!"  
  
With a shock as palpable as if she'd been smacked, Ranma came back to herself. The successive shocks had made Ryoga's predicament seem dreamlike, unreal – but he was in trouble, and calling her name...   
"RYOGA!!!" she screamed, and fought hard against the wind, leaning into the blast and pushing against the tile floor of Tofu-sensei's practice .  
  
"I CAN'T STOP IT!!!"  
  
Ranma bit her lip and forced her way towards him. "YOU'VE GOT TO LET IT GO!!! YOU'VE GOT TO RELEASE IT! IF ALL THAT CRASHES DOWN AT ONCE....!!!" Ranma didn't know what would happen if Ryoga let go of that much chi, but she knew for certain what would happen if he didn't.  
  
There was no reply, but the storm gained in frenzied intensity.  
  
Finally, Ryoga's voice emerged from the ether, both reply and addition to his long list – "_I HAVE NO REASON FOR LIVING IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!"_  
  
The gigantic whirlwind began to coalesce into a gleaming, writhing sphere of darkness and green light the size of a small asteroid.  
  
"No," Ranma said softly but determinedly, and then she was finally falling within the glow and the pitch black.  
  
It was like being submerged in icy water. All of a sudden, she could plainly make out Ryoga beside her, looking half-dead, shivering as intensely as she was. Around them both, the emerald lights flashed, highlighting their pale features. It was like being inside of a cool, foxfire-lit cave.  
  
Only infinitely more unpleasant. Ranma couldn't help but suddenly become aware of the emotions swimming past her: the sorrow, the deep despair, the hopelessness. They were not feigned. Ryoga truly did feel that he was the universe's personal joke, the sport of the fates – he believed that love could never find him, and that he would only become lost chasing it. He missed his parents, he missed going to school every day, he ached for permanence. He set his tent up every night in precisely the same fashion in order to maintain the feel of something solid, something he could count on, something that wouldn't abandon him...   
  
_Wait. How do I know –   
  
_The moment she became aware of them, the memories rushed to cover her, water moving to close over her head._  
_  
_Park in the park sunshine, bright and a boy and wearing a white gi, sunshine on the grass, his hair, a laugh, the problems on the board today, Saoko likes him but he leaves, the leaves are turning different colors, he says, and that means that his father will want to train him, but he's already better than I'll ever be, but he leaves, and he snatches the bread fastest, and he runs the fastest, and the girl I like loves him, but he leaves me in the lurch, the empty lot, the schoolyard, no the lot behind the house, can't find it can't find him, he leaves, I HATE –[4]  
  
_Ranma wrenched herself away with difficulty, gasping for breath as though she'd been under for too long. "What?" But she could hear without hearing – _I HATE THAT EVERYBODY LEAVES,_ and now the green was smaller, she'd taken some into herself, and it hurt, damn it! It hurt.  
  
And just like that, a whole bunch of it was leaking away – no, not away, into Ranma herself, but the images and feelings were far too rapid to make out. She had the sneaking suspicion she'd only seen the one because it had something to do with her. The rest were dark as the barrel of a gun, but the noise they made was one long, despairing wail, leaving Ranma's ears frozen and ringing.  
  
_Let it go together_. The strange thing was, Ranma wasn't sure who'd thought it. The blackness fell away from them; the green lights, like will-o-the-wisps, flickered fitfully before winking out.  
  
It took a moment more for Ranma to realize that she was in an enormous amount of physical pain. Every muscle ached and burned like half-thawed frostbite, but a moan from Ryoga's direction and half the pain seemed to disappear in sheer relief.   
  
Tofu-sensei's glasses had fallen aside, and the entire office was a shambles. Nothing seemed broken at first glance, except for her desk chair, but there were papers and files _everywhere_. Ranma blew her stray tufts of red hair away from her face with an exasperated _huff_ of breath. Some reward for saving Ryoga's life! She'd have all of the file nonsense to do over tomorrow. Joi barked excitedly and leapt into the air, relieved that Ranma had managed to get rid of the local weather in his usual hangout.  
  
The doctor grabbed her arm roughly. "Ranma!" he exclaimed, sounding hoarse and strange. "_Ranma, what did you do?!"_

-----

"Ranma... Ranma!"  
  
"Mmm, Akane, just five more minutes..."  
  
"Ran... MA!"  
  
"Fine, what?!" Ranma demanded, sitting up with a jolt and banging her head against Akane's. "Ow!"  
  
"Ow yourself," said the voice again, and it was obviously not Akane's voice. Ranma's eyes flew open to find Ryoga Hibiki standing next to her cot and rubbing his forehead with a grimace of pain painted across his features.  
  
"Ryoga!" she exclaimed in surprise, her brain frantically playing catch-up.  
  
"Ranma!" he echoed in obvious imitation.  
  
"Give me a minute," she commanded, still rubbing her forehead.   
  
She could recall Tofu-sensei's voice: _"What if this happens again? Ryoga is a time bomb, Ranma – a time bomb only you know how to diffuse. For Ryoga's safety – and the safety of those around my practice – you _must_ remain here tonight._" She'd spent a restless night, but she figured that she must've fallen asleep at some point.   
  
"Just one more minute," she repeated.  
  
"You don't have one," he announced. "You're going to be late for school."  
  
"What? School?"  
  
"Damn, you're slow. That's what I said. School. Late. You."  
  
"Shut up! I thought I wasn't going today. I thought I was supposed to be watching..." Ranma paused. "What are you holding?"  
  
Ryoga hefted a small bag into the air. "My schoolbag," he replied gamely. "Don't stare at me like that! It's none of my doing. But the fact is..." He took a deep breath, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "The fact is that you saved my life twice, Saotome, and there's no backing out of that one. Moreover you're a girl, so it's rather obvious to me that we can't continue to be rivals. So... truce?"  
  
Ranma blinked at him. "Were we fighting?" She swung her legs off the cot and stood, running her fingers through her bangs.  
  
"Exactly! Who knew you'd be so forgiving? So, anyway... where's this school of yours?"  
  
Ranma moved to the bathroom and found a toothbrush still in its casing. She removed it and tossed the empty box into the trash. "Do you think it'll help to tell you?" she inquired, wetting the brush and hunting for some toothpaste.  
  
Ryoga didn't reply.  
  
"Just follow me, okay? It's Furinkan High School." Ranma scrubbed her teeth quickly, then spat into the sink. "Let's go."  
  
The two of them exited Tofu-sensei's practice, Joi at their heels.  
  
"No!" Ranma said in her best commanding voice. "You're supposed to stay with the doc, remember?"  
  
Joi whined, looking torn; first he trotted back a few steps, towards Tofu's, then turned around to head after the redhead.   
  
"I don't know why he wants to follow us," Ryoga mumbled under his breath. "He always hated me."  
  
Ranma hefted the dog in her arms and carried him back to the building, dropping him in the waiting room and shutting the door. Then, she ran back to Ryoga. "Sorry, he ain't usually like this."  
  
They had been walking for a minute or two when Ryoga spoke up again. "So who's Akane?"  
  
Ranma jumped, having been lost in her own thoughts. "Uh... how do you know about Akane?"  
  
"You were saying the name in your sleep: 'Akane, Akane', and you called me Akane when I woke you up."  
  
Ranma blushed. "Eh heh..."  
  
"So, who is he? Your boyfriend?"  
  
All of the redhead's discomfort dissolved, and she began to laugh. "No, idiot, that's my best friend. I'm staying at her place – wait, there she is! Akane!!!"  
  
Akane turned, looking worried and oddly pale; but when she saw the redhead, her face lit up with her thousand megawatt smile. She jogged over to the pair, throwing her arms around Ranma. "Thank goodness! We were so worried until Tofu called! If you hadn't called right after supper, I don't know what I would've done..." She suddenly seemed to notice that they had company, and detached herself from the redhead's embrace. "Uh... Ryoga."  
  
"So how does everyone and their brother know my name?" he groused.  
  
Ranma snorted. "Akane saved you the other day, you jerk. She was the one who noticed you lying in the bushes."  
  
Ryoga had the grace to look embarrassed. "S-sorry, Akane-san. I should be thanking you."  
  
"It was nothing," Akane told him. "Hey!" She grabbed Ranma's arm. "There's other good news. Hikaru isn't dropping out. I called him this morning to apologize for working him too hard, and I told him about what you'd been through, about the chi absorbing thing. He said 'impossible', but he also sounded really impressed." Akane pulled Ranma in a little closer and lowered her voice. "But how long is this sticking-with-Ryoga thing going to last? How long are you supposed to be staying with Tofu?"  
  
"Well Saotome," came a dry voice, "I hear you've made yourself into a hero!"  
  
"Nabiki," Ranma announced. "For your information, I didn't make myself into anything."  
  
"I'm not here to bust your chops," Nabiki cut in with an impatient wave of her free hand. "Kasumi made you a special bento today to commemorate the occasion." She dropped a three-tiered bento box into Ranma's outstretched arms.  
  
"Wow... thanks!" The redhead looked like she was threatening to drool all over the checkered picnic cloth that Kasumi had used to wrap her creation.  
  
Nabiki laughed with her hand pressed against her mouth, as though she was afraid of sounding too delighted. "You act like you haven't eaten in days!"  
  
"Well, almost one whole day," Ranma admitted. "Not since yesterday's bento!"  
  
Nabiki grinned at her. "Good work, Sister-in-law. You're getting good at getting on my good side." She waved to the trio. "Good to see you're feeling better, Ryoga, but I've got to get to school. Some... business to attend to."  
  
"Thanks, Nabiki!" Ranma called after her, holding her oversized bento box in the air. "So," she added, turning to Akane. "Explain what happened with training yesterday."  
  
"Lady Ranma!"  
  
Ranma turned around to see Kuno jogging to catch up to them, wearing, she was happy to see, something relatively normal: a pair of khaki pants and a white dress shirt.  
  
"_Lady Ranma?_" Ryoga echoed.  
  
Tatewaki Kuno was already viewing the Lost Boy with immediate dislike. "And who is _this_ rogue?" he demanded.  
  
"_This rogue_ is..." Ryoga began heatedly.  
  
"Wait a minute," Kuno cut him off. "Isn't it customary that the challenger give his name first?"  
  
"Oh, no, not _this_ again," the redhead moaned.  
  
"Put a sock in it, Kuno!" Akane demanded.  
  
Ranma huffed, exasperated. "Tatewaki Kuno, meet Hibiki Ryoga, a childhood friend. Childhood friend Ryoga Hibiki, meet Kuno Tatewaki, student and current friend. Settled and satisfied? Good. Kuno, up on the fence."  
  
"But I – huh?" Kuno inquired.  
  
"Up!"  
  
Grumbling to himself, Kuno leapt onto the fence and managed to balance. Ranma joined him, straightening her white shirt once she'd arrived, landing in her customary pose: one leg pulled up close to her body, arms out.  
  
"Showoff," Ryoga muttered.  
  
"Stay down there, if you like," Akane said politely. Then she leapt for the fence. "Let's go!"   
  
Ranma set the pace, walking quickly, knowing that Kuno's balance was better when he moved more swiftly.  
  
"What is this childhood friend doing here, in any case?" Tatewaki demanded. "You're not engaged _again_, are you Ranma?"  
  
"Good joke," Ranma said flatly. "No, it's chance."  
  
"Chance!" Akane murmured sotto voce. "Do you suppose he was looking for you, Ranma?"  
  
"You're right. He could've followed me here. He talked about being rivals, and how he was gonna forgive me. Maybe he came here to fight?"  
  
"Fight?!" Kuno exclaimed.  
  
"Shh!!!" Ranma and Akane demanded in concert, making certain that Ryoga was still out of hearing range. The Lost Boy was walking with his head down, obviously concentrating very hard on following the line of the fence.  
  
Tatewaki lowered his voice slightly. "He came here to fight you? What kind of man would battle a young goddess such as yourself?"  
  
"Your kind, Kuno," Akane reminded him.  
  
"Heh. Well." He wisely kept silent after that.  
  
_Maybe he's learning after all,_ Ranma decided with a smirk. Then the smile dropped right off of her face. _If Ryoga was after me in the first place... if he was following me... damn it, his predicament is my fault!  
_  
"Ranma!" Hikaru was standing on the street below, Ryoga eyeing him curiously.  
  
Ranma halted and crouched on the edge of the fence. "What's up?"  
  
"Thanks for standing me up, sensei," he said, but his tone of voice was surprisingly friendly. He didn't sound like the same kid who'd accused her of finding excuses to beat him up.  
  
"I'm really sorry," Ranma said. "Come up on the fence!"  
  
"How does that go together?" Hikaru demanded. "If you were sorry, you'd go easy on me, unlike King Kong over there."  
  
"Biiidah!" Akane replied, sticking her tongue out at him and waggling her fingers in his direction. "I already apologized all I'm going to, Hikaru, so deal with it." She wobbled briefly from her display, before finding her feet again.  
  
"The view certainly is spectacular up here," Kuno commented idly.  
  
"Fine, fine." Hikaru scrambled up the chain-link fence, swearing quietly all the way. Once he reached the top, he paused, feeling eyes on him. "Quit staring!!! It's like you're brooding over which bone I'll break!"  
  
Ryoga, Ranma, Akane, and Kuno all rigidly and immediately faced forward. Ranma turned slowly to peek.   
  
Slowly, Hikaru stood, both hands out for balance. "Okay, let's go!"  
  
Unlike Kuno, though, his balance seemed to worsen the faster he was moving. The on his third step, his foot hit the edge of the iron pole almost promptly slid off. Ranma started towards him, but the gangly boy managed to regain his balance on his own.  
  
Once they were well under way, Hikaru glanced very rapidly down at the sidewalk below. "So, who's that weirdo following us?" Hikaru pondered. "Another of the Akane fan club?"  
  
"Childhood friend Ryoga Hibiki, blah blah blah," Kuno rattled off. "Ranma's, that is."  
  
"What, Kuno, jealous?" Akane queried with laughter in her voice.  
  
"Of whom?" the redhead inquired dangerously.  
  
"..."  
  
Ranma smirked. Kuno really _was_ learning.  
  
Kuno, Akane, Ranma, and Hikaru made an odd procession balancing along the top of the cast-iron fence. Several girls looked up in amazement, then giggled when Ranma flashed them her cock-sure smile and waved, prompting a small scowl from Ryoga.  
  
Kuno and Hikaru, however, had to focus their entire attention upon the thin stretch of metal in front of them, sweat beading on their brows. Although both Akane and Ranma were keeping close watch on the pair, neither girl had her arms out to offer support, or in readiness in case somebody fell. Ranma walked with her hands thrust in her pockets, while Akane strode along with her arms out for balance like a tightrope walker—that is, in a way that was entirely for effect. Meanwhile, Kuno and Hikaru teetered, stumbled and swore their way to Furinkan High, gaining titters from the girls and low, amazed whistles from the guys when they leapt and landed.   
  
Hikaru's legs immediately gave out. "My legs are made of jello," he suddenly announced in an utterly bleak and humorless tone of voice.  
  
Ranma blinked down at him. "Funny. They look like legs," she replied.  
  
"Jello," he reaffirmed, but he was already taking her offered hand to pull himself to his feet.   
  
"Do you complain of the attentions of my lady?" Kuno demanded roughly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you _dispute _her in _public_?!"  
  
"Eh heh..." Ranma looked at Hikaru nervously, but the other boy was actually looking abashed, to the redhead's abject surprise.  
  
He shrugged. "Guess I'm just naturally crass! See you in homeroom, okay?" He waved at the four and slipped inside the building.  
  
Kuno appeared mollified, or perhaps even strangely gratified. "I did know that beating I administered must do _some_ good..."  
  
Ranma's lips thinned. "A martial artist does _not_ pick on those weaker than he is. Thirty push-ups, please."  
  
"But lady, he sullied your—"  
  
"I don't care if he sullied my grandmother's wedding kimono! Thirty! Now!"  
  
With a slightly put-upon sigh, Kuno promptly dropped.  
  
And with a somewhat satisfied expression, Akane sat on him, pushing his back down with her weight.  
  
A resounding "oof!" echoed across campus. 

-----

  
  
Ryoga felt strange and oddly self-conscious. Here were all these people – all strong, and witty, and sort of attractive – and all sort of pretending he didn't exist.  
  
Not in an insulting way. In an accepting way. Like anybody who was okay with Ranma was okay with them.  
  
Ryoga had never understood Ranma's ease while interacting with others. Ryoga himself had always been soft-spoken, shy, making constant and consistent mistakes in how he dealt with people. The only kind of exchange he felt comfortable with was the exchange of blows. Ranma, on the other hand, flashed that grin of his – er, of hers – and people just seemed to form a line to smile back.  
  
He found himself staring at her. It was just too weird. A boy, then a girl. And the odd thing was, other than a minor affectation or two, Ranma acted just the same as she had while pretending at being a boy – wore the same clothes, moved the same way. Her laugh had altered, become more feminine. Other than that...  
  
Other than that, she was his rival from the seventh grade.  
  
Could he really just let go of this rivalry in the name of her femininity? Despite the fact that she had grown curves in all the right places, she was still the same Ranma who'd tortured and teased him all through junior high, wasn't she? Wasn't she the one who'd starved him out at lunch, who beat him easily every day, who called him names and... and walked him to and from school every day...  
  
Ranma didn't fit together. She was some kind of puzzle, the iron kind with the interlocking pieces. Why would anyone be so brash, so rude, then follow it up with something so kind? Now Ranma seemed to have forgotten the terrible things she'd done and decided to remember only the good. Ryoga snorted. He supposed that was a great idea, if one could manage it.  
  
"Ryoga," she said.  
  
The Lost Boy started guiltily, casting about for the source of her voice; he felt an illogical impulse to hit her for intruding on his thoughts – and also for everything...  
  
"Ryoga – it's this way."  
  
He found her with his eyes; she was rolling hers. "Come on."  
  
Ryoga looked around, realizing that he had somehow entered the school, and that none of Ranma's friends were around; he must've wandered off.  
  
"Honestly. But, well... just like old times, huh?" she inquired, taking hold of his sleeve and dragging him along with an open grin.  
  
Ryoga returned it shakily.  
  
The pair of them moved through the press of Furinkan students with some difficulty. Ryoga had no idea where all of these people had come from. Surely, there were not this many students in all of Tokyo!   
  
Akane leapt up and waved, beckoning them forward. "So it's true, about your sense of direction?" Akane inquired, taking Ranma's elbow and leading the way through the halls.  
  
"You told her?!" Ryoga demanded. Damn it, he _did_ want to hurt her.  
  
"Well, she would've found out eventually," Ranma replied, "once you sent her a postcard from Venice."  
  
Akane tsked. "You two sure insult one another a lot."  
  
Ranma paused, both physically and verbally, before replying. That was new, and it derailed Ryoga's building rage. "Maybe we do. I really ought not to make such fun of him. Being lost all the time is horrifying."  
  
Ryoga frowned in confusion, his eyes traveling to his sleeve, where Ranma's grip was so strong that her knuckles shone white. Being lost in Furinkan _would_ be horrifying, left out in the halls after everyone else had found their classes, no idea of where to be, no idea of how to find Ranma or Akane. Ranma had somehow managed to put herself in his place. She had made up her mind to look out for him.  
  
"Come on or we won't have time to register you," Akane said, pulling at Ranma's wrist to get her moving again.  
  
"R-register?" Ryoga stammered.  
  
"Yeah. For classes, Einstein." The redhead giggled, that definitively feminine laugh she'd picked up. "Boy, it's instinctive!"  
  
"I'm guessing you two had the kind of rocky friendship that's usually reserved for two _boys_," Akane deadpanned.  
  
"Hit the nail on the head," Ranma said in tandem with Ryoga.  
  
The redhead and the Lost Boy stared at one another briefly, taken aback. Ranma grinned.  
  
Ryoga was pathetically grateful to see the door to the main office. Once they were within, the only sounds were those of the humming ac unit, and the head secretary typing; it felt like a universe utterly separate from the one outside, with paper airplanes flying, lockers slamming open and closed, and the incessant chatter of a group of people pretty pissed about being where they were. To Ryoga, who had been alone for almost three years straight, and had a lot of trouble with large crowds, it seemed like an oasis in the middle of a desert.  
  
_Make that the eye of a hurricane_, he thought glumly. _I have to go back out there, don't I?_  
  
Ranma and Akane shoved him forward.  
  
"What?" he demanded.  
  
"Announce yourself!" Akane stage-whispered.  
  
Ryoga looked down at the head secretary. She was wearing a pink, fuzzy sweater, flats, and horn-rimmed glasses. She did not ask if she could help him. There was something... strangely intimidating about her. "Uh..."  
  
She didn't look up.  
  
"Uh... I'm Ryoga Hibiki... and I'm living here for now... and I n-need to register for courses?"  
  
The middle-aged, bespectacled woman finally looked up. "Well, then. Welcome to Furinkan High," she deadpanned. "Let's get you started, shall we? I'm Yumi, head secretary –"  
  
"And if you want anything done at this school, you ask her," Akane broke in.  
  
Yumi tried to look irritated at being interrupted, but pleasure was plain on her face. "So they say," she replied. "So – family name Hibiki?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She scribbled some kanji on a black-and-white form. "Ryoga."  
  
Ryoga nodded.  
  
"Age?"  
  
"Sixteen," Ryoga replied after a moment's thought.  
  
"All right. Now, what was the last year of school you completed?"  
  
Ryoga found himself turning red. "A martial artist doesn't have to know all about history or economics," he snapped. "I don't know why I have to be here anyway. I don't even live here, technically speaking."  
  
"Don't listen to him, Yumi-san," Akane said sharply. "Technically, he most certainly does."  
  
"Answer the question, Hibiki-san," she replied. "What was the last year you completed?"  
  
Ryoga mumbled something under his breath.  
  
"Clearer, Hibiki-san."  
  
"Seventh grade!" he barked, his blush going nuclear.  
  
"Well then. Nothing to be ashamed of. We teach lots of remedial classes here, Hibiki-san. You'll still be with young men your own age. Next question: school of martial arts?"  
  
Ryoga's shame dropped like the stock of Enron. "Huh?"  
  
Ranma goggled.   
  
"This _is_ Furinkan High, Hibiki-san."  
  
"Er... my own school, I guess. Hibiki-ryu." _Plus a couple of things I've added,_ he thought to himself. _Man, I miss that umbrella. Whatever happened to– [5]  
_  
"Is that a school?" Yumi pondered, her pen hovering over the empty field.  
  
"_Yes_, it's a school! Dating back to my great-great-grandfather!!!"  
  
Yumi placed her pen carefully but decisively on a sheet of paper. "Hibiki-san, if you wish to matriculate the hallowed halls of Furinkan, you must learn to control that temper of yours. The very _last_ thing we need in this building is yet another troublemaker. Do I make myself clear?" She exhaled noisily. "I've had this conversation with many of the students here." Yumi's eyes beneath her horn-rimmed glasses slid to Akane.   
  
Ryoga nodded. "Yes ma'am," he replied grumpily. The truth was, he was having a little bit more trouble than usual keeping his temper in check.  
  
"That's better. Now, Ranma-san. I'm going to give you leave to pick up Hibiki-san slightly before the school day ends, but you'll have to come in early if you want to drop him off in homeroom before school starts."  
  
Ryoga exchanged a wary glance with the others.  
  
"Uh... h-how do you know about his getting lost all the time?" Ranma inquired.  
  
Yumi smiled thinly. "I know _everything_, Saotome-san."[6] She handed Ryoga a small slip of paper, and Ranma and Akane small, white envelopes. "Since you're here, I'd better just give these to you now."  
  
Ranma and Akane made to tear at the white paper, but Yumi held up her hand. "Open them once you're in homeroom; you're already late as it is."  
  
"Uh... thanks." Ryoga bowed awkwardly as the three of them rushed from the room.  
  
"Man, she gives me the creeps sometimes," Ranma commented, shivering theatrically.  
  
Ryoga opened the sheet of paper that the head secretary had given him. Listed there in neat kanji were all of his classes, in chronological order.  
  
Akane frowned. "You mean she had that all ready? Maybe she _is_ just psychic."  
  
"Or maybe she found out my name from Tofu-sensei or someone else," Ryoga interjected dryly, "then looked at my school records. They'd tell her I never finished eighth grade."  
  
"So how did that happen?" Akane inquired.  
  
"Akane..." Ranma said warningly.  
  
Ryoga frowned, angry again, but less so. There was just something about Akane asking a rude question that didn't seem quite as intrusive. Still, the now-familiar blush was creeping up his cheeks in embarrassment. "Er... I couldn't make it to school for a month or so, and...it was Ranma's fault!" he added in a more confident tone of voice. "I mean, if he had been there, then I would've been fine! But instead, he had to go off with his stupid dad and–"  
  
"What does that have to do with school?" the youngest Tendo inquired curiously.  
  
"I f-followed him. Her. Ranma. To China. That was the last schooling I had."  
  
Akane grabbed his arm. "Do you mean to tell me you've been _looking for Ranma_ for _two years?!_"  
  
Ryoga mumbled something softly.  
  
"You and I are going to have to have a little talk later on," Akane murmured in reply, releasing him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Ranma cut in, her face turned away from him. "I'm really, really sorry."  
  
Ryoga said what came automatically to his lips. "Uh... well, it's okay."  
  
The redhead frowned. "Huh? I made your life a living hell, and it's okay?"  
  
Akane was watching the exchange like a spectator at a tennis match.  
  
"Well..." Ryoga replied. He wondered why he'd said that. It _wasn't_ okay, not really.  
  
"Is this because I'm a girl?" Ranma demanded.  
  
Ryoga thought about this. "That could be it."  
  
"You can't just decide you don't hate me because I'm a girl!" she snapped. "Are you saying you _would_ hate me if I were a guy?"  
  
"But you're not – so end of discussion," Ryoga replied, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Gah! You're _insufferable_!" Ranma accused. "You're saying that if I were a guy, you'd have come in here guns blazing, but since I'm a weak little girl, you're willing to make nice?"[7]  
  
"That's pretty much the gist of it," Ryoga replied, one eyebrow raised. Despite the churning feeling in his stomach as Ranma's aura manifested, part of him didn't want stop himself.  
  
"I'll show you how 'weak' I am!" Ranma growled, lunging for the smug-looking martial artist.  
  
Luckily, Akane was there in time to catch her. "He's injured! He's injured!" she sang like a litany until the redhead calmed down.  
  
Ryoga laughed. "Has anyone ever told you you're cute when you're angry?" For a reason he couldn't fathom, he really wanted to irritate her.   
  
Ranma turned to Akane. "Pleeeease let me kill him."  
  
"You're not allowed to kill him until he's better," Akane said; but it was easy for Ryoga to see that her temper was almost at the breaking point as well. "And you!" she shouted at him. "Are you forgetting that Ranma's the only thing you have at this school? Make nice, for crying out loud!"  
  
"I was _trying_ to!" Ryoga moaned. And he had been. What had made him just alienate the only people he knew in Nerima? He felt sick.  
  
Ranma grabbed the front of his shirt, lifted it slightly into the air until it was choking him, and proceeded to 'lead' him to homeroom.  
  
She waited until his hands were on the door handle to his new classroom before she turned and stalked away. Just like no time had passed. Just the way it used to be, in junior high. He was a damned burden to her and her friend, but she still didn't seem to mind, even when he insulted her.   
  
This morning, he had been so ready to forgive her. She'd been sleeping so soundly, her red hair splayed everywhere, and her limbs spread out as far as they'd fit on the cot, like a cat basking in the sunshine. She snored, too, a soft rumble. Looking at her had made him feel – he didn't know. Sort of peaceful. It had seemed a shame to wake her.  
  
Her dog had wandered in the room and started to lick his hand. Ryoga had automatically moved to pet the animal, never taking his eyes off of her – his strongest rival. Damn, but she was beautiful. Her hair shone copper in the sunshine that was streaming through the window. She twisted in bed, murmured something that Ryoga now knew was 'Akane'.  
  
He thought he might have loved her, for just that moment.  
  
Then she had to wake up, and remind him that she was _Ranma_, not just some pretty girl who'd saved his life, _Ranma_, who tortured and insulted him just by being alive.   
  
His anger didn't seem made for the world; it was too big. He wanted to rend the planet off its hinges. He wanted to scream, he needed to tear the sky down.   
  
_NO! No, I _won't_. Control, Ryoga, control._ He could see the green chi beginning to entwine his torso, spreading out from his wound like a cancer.  
  
Ryoga closed his eyes and took deep breaths, desperately casting about for something else. Anything.  
  
Akane. He moved his focus to Ranma's best friend, thinking of only her. He was not angry with her, he had not shared anything personal or sacred with her. She was safe. She was an anchor.   
  
Ryoga opened one eye hesitantly. The swirling, writhing slips of emerald had departed the hallway. He sighed in profound relief. Maybe he didn't need Ranma. Maybe he could control this himself.  
  
A sudden overwhelming disquiet in his stomach made him find the nearest garbage in the hallway and make quick use of it. Luckily, there hadn't been many people in the hallways anymore; class was about to start. With rigid determination, Ryoga turned exactly one hundred-eighty degrees and found the proper door.  
  
Wiping his lips against his sleeve and doing his best to smile, he strode into the first classroom he'd seen in two years. 

-----

  
Ranma blinked at the small sheet of paper in her hands. 

_Saotome Ranma-san,  
__  
It has come to our attention through your physical education instructor, Ashi-sensei, that you have not been participating in class. You are advised that your current, midterm grade is NP.  
  
__  
_The redhead crushed the sheet of paper in her hands. Ashi-sensei was out to get her, that was all there was to it. After sending her to Yashimoto-sensei, she was now claiming that Ranma hadn't been to class at all! Had Ms. A been marking her absent for every time she'd been sent to the boys' side of the gym?  
  
She murmured some choice imprecations under her breath, and smoothed the letter in her hands.  


  
_You will be required to attend a special class in order to make up your failing grade. Please see Yashimoto-sensei fifth period today._

__

__

The missive was not signed. If it hadn't come from Yumi-san, Ranma would have been sure it was a joke. Whether everybody knew it or not, Yumi actually ran the school: she made sure the budget worked, the schedules were to everyone's liking, and every mechanical device in the school was attended to properly. She also had struck an excellent deal with a small construction company in Nerima to keep a stock of new windows, fresh chair/desk combos, and ceiling tiles solely for the use of the school. In short, she was Nabiki Tendo in inexpensive flats and horn-rimmed glasses, and it was wise to keep on her good side. Ranma _had_ to trust something that had come directly from the head secretary's hands; which was, come to think of it, probably why she had handed the letters to Ranma and Akane in person. 

-----

  
Several hours later found Ranma and Akane taking the steps five at a time, jumping as balance practice, and utterly startling any students who had not yet witnessed their strange activities.   
  
"Ow!" Ranma announced as Akane took the opportunity to kick her yet again. It took the redhead a moment before she could regain her footing.  
  
"Just trying to get your attention," the girl said sweetly, as Ranma glared at her. "What did your letter say?"  
  
"Something about failing gym," Ranma admitted. "I'm supposed to see Yashimoto-sensei about it today. Well... at least I'm doing all right with Watakashi-sensei." She grinned at the youngest Tendo, displaying her 92% with a quick snap of the paper. "Second-highest in the class."  
  
Akane rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "That's the third time you've mentioned it. Want to get the exam sewn into your clothes? I'm sure we could – ow! – manage it..."  
  
The 'ow' had been because Ranma had whapped her across the back.   
  
"I'll consider it," the redhead said peevishly.  
  
Akane withdrew her letter from her pocket and showed it to the other girl as they strode through the halls. "Anyway, mine says the same thing. But I'm not failing gym," Akane informed her defensively. "I've been there, in gym clothes, every day. I don't know what the heck they think they're talking about."  
  
Ranma shook her head in bemusement as they entered the first floor ladies' room. "I could understand if it was just me," she mused. "I mean, the past two or three days, I've been training Hikaru instead of playing basketball. But it's not like Yashimoto-sensei can fault me for that." Her lips twisted in a sneer as she entered one of the pink-painted stalls. "None of the guys would touch the ball after I had."  
  
Akane's voice sounded from the stall next to hers. "_What's_ this about?" she inquired lightly.  
  
Ranma flinched. "Uh... t-they thought that you and I were... together. And didn't take too kindly to the idea." She slipped her white Chinese shirt over her head and folded it in her arms. "Being gay isn't _really_ catching, is it?"  
  
A fit of giggles emerged from someplace to Ranma's left. "No."  
  
"Well then, I don't understand what their problem is!"  
  
"You're not gay in any case, Ranma."  
  
"I'm not sure. My situation is... unique."  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"I mean, do I qualify?"  
  
"If you're going to be technical, I guess you do."  
  
"Huh." Ranma slipped Nabiki's gym shirt over her head and with the rapidity of several days' practice, knotted it efficiently at her waist. The redhead thought about this as she undid the drawstring to her black pants and slipped them off one leg at a time. "It doesn't bother me, though. It's a fact. But it's a fact that has nothing to do with basketball. Or sports of any kind, for that matter."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Ranma pulled on her burma and emerged from her stall. She reached behind her to tie her hair back. "Ready when you are."  
  
Akane emerged from the stall to Ranma's left, ran a swift hand through her own short bangs and stuck her tongue out at the mirror. "Biiidah!" she declared.  
  
Ranma grinned and shoved her aside. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means, 'my hair doesn't lie flat'."  
  
"No, it just blows dramatically in the wind!" Ranma teased.  
  
"Oi, shut up, Ranma. Nowhere near as dramatic as _that_ color red. You don't dye it, do you?"  
  
"Are you kidding? You've seen my black hair! I don't –"  
  
"I'm _joking_, Ranma, _joking_." Akane put her arm across the redhead's shoulders. "Stop taking me so seriously, baka."   
  
Ranma turned to look at her. The youngest Tendo's voice had grown soft and affectionate. The arm gripping her shoulder was soft, too, and warm. She was forcefully reminded of the first time Akane had ever touched her like that, when they'd both emerged from the dojo to engage in the first mutual lie of many: that they had fought one another, and that neither had won. Ranma could recall the feel of Akane's body up against hers, of Akane's arm around her shoulders, both burning her with their heat. Her face had been redder than her hair, and she'd felt like she was going to explode.   
  
Akane's dark grey eyes were examining hers, her brow furrowing, as though she was... thinking something along the same lines?  
  
_No... _ Ranma remembered, too, the feel of Akane's arms wrapped around her waist, of Akane leaning towards her, sighing... only to adjust an article of Ranma's clothing like she pitied her or something. _I have to be imagining things again..._  
  
Yet the moment was stretching out. They were just standing there in the bathroom, staring at one another, Akane looking lost and yearning and a little confused. She reached out to run her fingers through Ranma's red bangs, until they lay flat.  
  
"There," she said, "all better. At least _you_ look okay." She turned on her heel and exited the bathroom.  
  
Ranma exhaled heavily, trudging behind the other girl. 

-----

  
"Ah! The beauteous Akane Tendo, and my Lady." Kuno stood at the entrance to the gym, looking pompous and self-satisfied. He was wearing his old hakama and carrying his bokken.  
  
"What's up?" Ranma inquired.   
  
Kuno grinned, looking truly manic. "Bwahaa haa!" he said, throwing his head back to laugh.  
  
"Kuno, man, you know you look utterly nuts when you do that," Ranma said, laying a cautioning hand against his shoulder. "Scary."  
  
"Truly? Well, in any case... I have arranged something very special for my two senseis. I forged my father's signature, and –"  
  
"Ranma!" Hikaru trotted up to the four of them. "What's this about my failing gym? I mean, first the Bio test, now this..."  
  
"I'm sure you'll recover," Akane said dryly.  
  
"Not from failing a class!" Hikaru moaned. "That'll really screw up my GPA! Goodbye, Tokyo U....!"  
  
"No, no, foolish peasant," Kuno cut in. "You are _not_ failing physical education, despite your puny performace. I have arranged something for–"  
  
"Saotome Ranma!" Yashimoto-sensei cut in.  
  
Kuno slumped, deprived once again of his right to finish a sentence.   
  
Akane leaned in close to him. "It's karma," she intoned. "All that pontificating..."  
  
"Ranma, I'm glad to see you here. Maybe you can explain this." The young gym teacher was waving a written missive in the air – one that looked surprisingly like Ranma's and Akane's. "It seems that the principal has _ordered_ you to teach a marital arts class during gym time. Do you know anything about this?"  
  
Ranma blinked. Then she turned to Kuno, who was grinning. "Uh. No?"  
  
"I see." Yashimoto-sensei shrugged. "Well, weirder things have happened. To me. Here. So, have a good time, I guess." He wrapped an arm around Ranma to take her aside and have a more private chat with her. "You did well with Hikaru the other day during gym, you really did. But... you have to be careful with someone like him. You betray his trust once, and you won't get a second chance. And the next person who tries to get close to him will have an even harder time than you did."  
  
"I wouldn't give up on Gos," Ranma said sternly. "I'm a teacher too, sensei. Before this whole business, I accepted Hikaru as my student. I won't turn my back on that."   
  
Yashimoto-sensei's lips quirked into a smile. "Good. That's good. I'm glad you're taking my advice, Ranma-chan. Why don't you take _your class_ outside? Unless I'm mistaken, both Ashi-sensei and myself are in the gym today." He grinned widely.  
  
"Sure!" Ranma replied. She bowed, then trotted back to join the others.  
  
"WHERE ON EARTH AM I...?! Wait a minute..." Ryoga was standing in the doorway and blocking several other students from entering the gymnasium. A small pileup was gathering behind him. "This appears to be the school gym."  
  
"Ryoga!" Akane exclaimed.  
  
"You made it, bud!" Ranma added. "We were worried."  
  
"Huh. Whadda you know..." Ryoga still appeared utterly amazed. "After you walked away from my classroom, I feared I would never see you two again."  
  
Kuno blinked, then made the universal sign for insanity in Hikaru's general direction.  
  
Gos seemed to think that this was incredibly funny. "You should talk, sempai."  
  
"What is he doing here?" Kuno inquired of Ranma, somewhat sharply.  
  
"Let's see," Ryoga replied. "I was going to the bathroom..."  
  
"It's just as well," Ranma said. "Tatewaki, you can get him registered in this class, right?"  
  
Kuno grimaced, then shrugged.  
  
"How _did_ you do that, anyway?"  
  
"My father is the principal here at Furinkan. Don't tell me I never mentioned it?"  
  
"Okay, I won't tell you," Ranma replied. "Won't you get in trouble?"  
  
Kuno frowned. "It's hard to say. He may be furious – he may be proud. He may ignore it entirely or be entirely unaware."  
  
Akane twirled her index finger around her ear to make the universal sign for insanity Kuno's general direction.  
  
"As coarse as the suggestion is, fair Akane, it is all too true. My poor father is quite unbalanced. I am sicker of pineapple than I can say."  
  
Akane had the decency to blush at being caught, but she recovered in time to nod sympathetically.  
  
Ranma, who had utterly no idea what pineapples had to do with anything, cleared her throat loudly. "So... uh... let's get to it, I guess."   
  
Akane, Kuno, and Hikaru replied with varying degrees of enthusiasm and made their way outside.  
  
Ryoga lingered behind, of course, but Ranma managed to fetch him before he ended up in Guam. "Who's that guy?" he demanded, peering over to the boys' side of the gym.  
  
"What guy? Which? The guy with the scar?"  
  
"No. Uh, the teacher, I guess."  
  
"Yashimoto-sensei. Why? Think he's cute?" Ranma had to admit that, in an abstract kind of way, from a purely asthetic perspective, Yashimoto-sensei _was_. He looked like he was still in his twenties; his smooth, dark hair was almost the same color as Akane's, and was pulled back from his face in a ponytail. He was tall, and had an open smile.  
  
Ryoga growled at her. "_I'm_ not the cross-dresser."  
  
"Fine, fine," Ranma cut in, feeling a little uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts had been taking. "So why do you wanna know, then?"  
  
Ryoga pushed the gym door open, and stepped aside to let her through first. "I'm not sure. He looks kinda familiar."  
  
"Familiar?" Ranma slipped outside and into the warm sunshine.  
  
"Yeah. I could swear I've seen him someplace before."  
  
"Never mind that! Let's _go_!" She tugged on his arm and managed to drag him outside.   
  
Once Ranma had stretched her arms over her head and begun to lean from side to side to loosen up, she fixed Ryoga with a steely glare. "Don't you walk where I can't see you."  
  
"I'm not a child," he snapped.  
  
"Could've fooled me." She jogged off to the middle of the open field behind the school, where Akane was leading the rest of the group in some stretches. The redhead was practically jumping up and down with glee as she viewed them: her first class. -----  
  
The streets were full of children who'd been let out of school, and adults who'd been let out of work. The city hummed with a busy sort of feeling that Ranma was coming to like. Fall was coming to Nerima, touching the willow trees in Nerima Park with deep yellow. To her, it seemed like the whole world was painted in gold.  
  
Hikaru and Kuno had gone home to change into more acceptable exercise clothes. Ryoga was, of course, still trailing behind Ranma like a new wife. And Akane...  
  
Ranma spun in a small circle, her arms out in front of her, swinging Akane around enough to make the youngest Tendo's feet lift slightly and her black patent-leather shoes scuff the ground. The salarymen and students stared incredulously, but shrugged and smiled at the happy display.  
  
The only dissenting noises came from a pair of Furinkan students, who were obviously thinking that Ranma did other, more private things to Akane to make her giggle.  
  
"You know what's the best thing about being a girl?!" she cried out over Akane's laughter.  
  
"No... what?!"  
  
"Being able to show when I'm this happy!" Ranma announced, depositing her friend back onto the sidewalk.  
  
Akane, still dizzy from being spun, twirled in a brief circle before allowing her knees to give out and sitting down rather abruptly on the sidewalk. Hikaru and Kuno had gone home to change into more acceptable exercise clothes. Ryoga was, of course, still trailing behind Ranma like a new wife.  
  
"This has just been the best day!" Ranma exclaimed. "And I needed a good one."  
  
"Planning on pinning that 92% on the refridgerator?" Akane queried. Abruptly the grin dropped off her features. "But you're going to Tofu-sensei's..."  
  
Ranma instinctively turned to Ryoga, who was not really looking at her – just focusing on the movement of her feet. "Uh... yeah." Her face fell. "B-but... maybe you can take the test with you." Her voice was small, and uncertain. "Just so Tendo-san and Kasumi can see."  
  
"No problem. I'll make sure the whole _world_ knows, if you want!" Akane's good mood was back, full-force. "RANMA'S A GENIUS!!!" she announced to the street. "MY BEAUTIFUL FIANCEE IS THE NEXT EINSTEIN!!! SHE mmgph!!!"  
  
Ranma had slapped her hand across Akane's lips. "What's gotten into you?" she demanded.  
  
Akane glared at Ranma; then she slowly and deliberately licked the redhead's hand.  
  
"Ewww!" Ranma exclaimed, rapidly wiping it off against her black pants.   
  
Ryoga was staring at the two of them, his features blank with surprise. Apparently he hadn't heard about their 'engagement'.  
  
"That's what you get," Akane announced coolly. "And as for what's gotten into me, I think I've just finally decided that I don't care what all those dummies at Furinkan think, that's all. I mean, for the longest time, I came to school every day without being able to eat breakfast. Do you know how cranky I get when I don't get breakfast?"  
  
Ranma chuckled softly to herself. With the mob assult team every morning, Akane must have been too nervous and hyped up to eat.  
  
"And now... they can take their bokkens and... and shove them where the sun don't shine!!!" she announced triumphantly. "And they can take their comments, and eat them!"  
  
"Uh _huh_," Ranma said, in the tone of a patient soul simply humoring the insane.  
  
"I mean, it's not like anything I say or do will change how anyone feels," Akane said determinedly. "So why should I step so lightly? I need to be more like you, Ranma. I need to be myself!"  
  
Ranma stared at her. "Like me," she repeated.  
  
"Exactly," Akane said. "I mean, I could kiss you in the street and no one would think any different than they always have. In fact, I will kiss you!"  
  
And she did.  
  
The kiss wasn't long, or particularly involved. Akane pressed her lips to Ranma's for what might have been three or four seconds – not long, but not short, either. "I'm going to go home to get ready for practice!" she announced, and ran ahead.  
  
Ryoga twitched.  
  
"She _kissed_ me!"  
  
"I caught that! Just what the hell is wrong with you people?!" he demanded. "Didn't you notice that was a girl?!"  
  
"Oi, shut up, Ryoga," Ranma said absently, still a sunset shade of pink. "It's not like she meant anything by it."  
  
"Are you still a guy or something?"  
  
She spun to face him. "What?!"  
  
"You heard me. Have you been a boy so long that you think you _are_ one?"  
  
She thought this over. It was an odd question, but a worthy one, and she felt the need to answer him honestly. "Well, for all intents and purposes, I am. My father acted like I was a guy. He put a lot of emphasis on becoming a real man, a man among men. Last month, that was my world."  
  
"You mean you'd been pretending up until a month ago?" Ryoga stammered.  
  
"Acting like a guy as much as possible anyway." Ranma grimaced, hefting her bosoms. "But then _these_ showed up, and that's been impossible ever since." She noted the stare Ryoga was giving her and blushed, protectively crossing her arms over her chest. _Pretty good, Saotome_, she thought to herself. _You're getting almost as talented at skirting the truth as your old man._   
  
"So..." Ryoga managed, finally getting his blush under control. "You've only been accepting your lot as a girl since you've been in Nerima."  
  
"That's right," she replied.  
  
"You should still know that you can't just go around kissing girls!"  
  
"Hey, she kissed me, not the other way around!" Ranma defended. "Besides, who wrote that rule?"  
  
"It's not written, it's understood – by anyone not a cross-dressing freak like you." Ryoga slid into an open stance and raised his fists to the redhead.  
  
Ranma deliberately remained casual, both in tone and in posture. "Uh... you ain't gonna fight me just because a girl kissed me, are you?"  
  
He grimaced, showing a bit of fang. "Feh. I'm going to fight you because that's what I came here to do. I've seen your kind before, Ranma. You sorely need to be taken down a notch."   
  
"You were unconscious before yesterday," she chided. "If you think I'm going to fight you, you've got another thing coming." Ranma took a small step back; Ryoga was trying to get in her face, to make her angry.  
  
"Then you should learn to control yourself!" Ryoga shot back. "Maybe then I wouldn't find myself in such a situation so soon after my debilitation. Akane should be with a man, not some deluded little girl."  
  
Despite her ire, Ranma couldn't help but think that, if she'd been in Ryoga's situation, she'd have said much the same thing. She cast about for some kind of argument to convince him to stand down. "Look at you! Fighting over a girl, with a girl! Some martial artist!"  
  
"You're no girl," Ryoga bit off.  
  
Ranma's fists clenched, and she trembled with fury as she recalled Yoreko and the taunts of the other boys in the gym. "You... you..." There just wasn't a word strong enough for him. "Idiot!!! Fool!!! Wrongheaded jackass!"  
  
"You _are_ cute when you're angry."   
  
"DIE!" she replied, rushing the other boy.  
  
Ryoga side-stepped her, reaching out to punch her in the stomach.  
  
Ranma doubled over, but used the opportunity to thrash Ryoga soundly, kicking him in the shins three times, then shoving him away from her.  
  
Ranma could barely believe her eyes. Ryoga appeared undamaged; he didn't even have any red markings where she'd hit him. "Kachuu Tenshin Amaguriken!" she announced, and proceeded to hit him as fast as she could. The redhead frowned; she was still not half as fast as the purple-haired girl who'd originally introduced her to the technique.  
  
The Lost Boy was taken by surprise. The rapid-fire strikes hit him, and he staggered back. Once again, however, he was barely breathing heavily.  
  
Meanwhile, a crowd had begun gathering around the redhead, observing the battle and making appropriate comments – 'he's unstoppable!' – 'did you see that technique?!'  
  
"Let's take this where there's no innocent bystanders!" Ryoga demanded, leaping up onto the nearest roof.  
  
Ranma leapt. She was far quicker and more agile than her opponent, and she used that to her best advantage. She wove around the slower, heavier martial artist's attacks, getting a hit in only when she could manage it without striking his injury.   
  
Ranma felt remarkably level-headed, not the way she usually felt when she fought. Rather than filled with adrenaline, she felt filled with irritation, and something else – an impulse she didn't recognize, the impulse to be very circuspect about this battle.   
  
Why did Ryoga want to fight her, anyway? Her eyes narrowed. Had he been planning on picking a fight with her? Was this some kind of pseudo-macho nonsense that she didn't understand?  
  
Ranma shook that thought out of her skull. _Ryoga's right. Something's happened to me. Have I forgotten who I am – or is this just me minus pops?_   
  
Ryoga leapt for the next rooftop, retreating, buying himself time – a leap that Ranma could tell, could _see_, instinctively, that wasn't going to quite make it to the other side.  
  
She forgot to breathe.  
  
Ryoga slipped one of his bandannas from around his hair and lashed out with a whiplike motion. The mustard-colored cloth snapped out, wrapping securely around the roof's drainpipe. Ryoga's sweat-slick hands slipped against the cloth before slowly sliding to a stop. There he swung, dangling twenty feet from the ground.  
  
Ranma jumped down to the ground only to leap straight up, scoop him in her arms and deposit him on the rooftop. "Idiot!" she announced. She didn't know what to do. How did you talk a martial artist out of fighting? That was practically Ryoga's calling, his job. And yet, this foolish scuffle over nothing seemed incredibly _wrong_ to the redhead.  
  
Suddenly she thought she understood how Akane must've felt, breaking Kuno's arms – the futility of it, the pointlessness. The pain for nothing. Watching Ryoga fight her tooth and nail for a perceived and empty insult did something to Ranma.  
  
"STOP!" she shouted. "STOP THIS, YOU JERK!"  
  
Ryoga said nothing to her, only stared.  
  
"I SAID," Ranma began fiercely, a cold wind rising around her, "STOP!!!"  
  
Ryoga staggered to his feet, with an intense but otherwise unreadable expression painted across his features. "T-that's three times you've saved me... n-never mind I could have saved myself, there..."  
  
"And rip open the wound that just finally managed to close," Ranma supplied. The cool logic was leaving her, and anger was rushing in to take its place. "Do you realize that doc Tofu and I were wracking our brains to come up with the right way to heal that? And now you're expecting me to undo everything I did. That's really, _really_ stupid and I ain't gonna do it." She crossed her arms under her bosom and glared. "What the hell is it with you, anyway? You got some kind of death wish?"  
  
Ryoga glared at her.  
  
"That's it, isn't it?" Ranma said angrily, tapping Ryoga on the chest with an open palm, making him stumble backward before her. "All this wandering around, all this fighting for no reason – it has nothing to do with me!"  
  
"_Yes it does_ –"  
  
"Listen, buddy, if you don't have any respect for yourself, at least have some respect for what the doc and I were trying to do! Even Akane would be hurt if something happened to you. When you hurt yourself, you hurt others – those few who give a damn."  
  
"Nobody gives a crap about me –"  
  
"Bullshit!" Ranma announced, advancing as he retreated. "What about your folks, huh? The way I recall, your parents had the same problem with direction as you do. Do you think that means they don't wonder about you? I'll bet they do. When I saw you lying under that bush, I was worried about you. We all were, me and the Tendo girls. Now I think about it, I spent a lot of my time in junior high worried about you in one way or another."  
  
"Shut up, Ranma! You don't know..."  
  
"No! You'll listen to this, Ryoga, if I have to sit on you!" Her blue eyes flashed. "What's _wrong_ with you? Don't you understand I'm trying to help you?"  
  
"And what if I don't want to be helped?"  
  
She drew up short, suddenly noticing that she had pushed Ryoga to stand at the edge of the roof. His eyes were dark and blank, nothing behind them, not even despair. She found herself recalling the desolate emotions that she had seen within the vortex of his chi, the true helplessness. Had even those feelings escaped for good? Was all that was left this anger and emptiness? Ranma closed her eyes, seeing flashing emerald lights and choking darkness behind her closed lids. "You have no choice," she said, her voice soft but matter-of-fact. "If you won't accept help, you'll become a monster, according to Shampoo."  
  
"Certainly, let's believe the Chinese killing machine sent from the mainland to murder me."  
  
Ranma noted that his voice had finally fallen from a shout. She had the sudden and powerful impulse to comfort him in some way as well as reward him for his tiny step towards normalcy. Was this how Akane felt about her? She hoped not, because the feelings she had for Ryoga vacillated between compassion and exasperation.  
  
"Don't look at me like that," he ordered, turning away from her. "I don't need your pity."  
  
"But you need my help," she reiterated.  
  
"I understand that –"  
  
"Then show some sense and accept it! Why do you have to keep picking a fight with me anyway?"  
  
Ryoga exhaled noisily and sat, as though all his fighting spirit had suddenly drained away. "I don't know."  
  
Ranma frowned, crouching across from him. "Well, that's a problem, Hibiki. If we don't understand our mistakes, we tend to repeat them."  
  
"You're confusing..."  
  
"Me? _I'm_ confusing?"  
  
Ryoga bobbed his head solemnly. "Never been able to understand how you tick. It irritates me."  
  
"Well, that's an answer, anyway. Ask me, then. Ask me anything."  
  
Ryoga stared at her for a long time, his eyes searching hers. "Fine," he said, his voice rough and challenging. "Why did you walk me to school every morning?"  
  
It wasn't the kind of question that Ranma had expected. "Huh? I don't know," she replied.  
  
"That's a shame," he responded mockingly. "If we don't understand our mistakes..."  
  
"That wasn't a mistake!" The redhead's blue eyes flashed as she knelt, relieving the pressure on the back of her legs. Her adrenaline was singing through her now, as though on lag from the battle. "Maybe you won't like the answer, but I felt sorry for you."  
  
"If you felt so sorry, why'd you torment me?"  
  
"Torment?" Ranma echoed.  
  
Ryoga tossed his hair and glared down at her. "Don't play dumb. Why'd you steal the bread, and...and Saoko."  
  
"I see, so Saoko comes second to sandwiches," she murmured, a wry smile playing about her lips.  
  
"See?! Stop it, _stop!!!_ Stop twisting my words around and actually answer me! You _always_ do this, every conversation we have! You're not going to get around me this time, though. I need to understand why you keep doing this to me."  
  
"Okay. Okay," she said. "All right. Saoko just liked me; there was nothing I could do about that. She liked anyone who smiled at her. She would've liked you, if you'd ever just asked her out." Ranma shrugged. "As far as the bread... I was hungry."  
  
"Hungry enough to steal from me? It's always been all-or-nothing with you. You always have to prove you're the best."  
  
She gulped, examining the rough shingles of the roof under her feet with great interest. "Point is, I'm not that way anymore. I'm trying to help you, and that's all. I don't care about being the best anymore, man, and if you were smart, you wouldn't care about it, either."  
  
"But the art is all I have..."  
  
Ranma examined him carefully – his expression, his arm, relaxed as it rested upon his knee. He really was being honest with her. "I know what you mean," she replied after a small pause. "I've felt like that."  
  
"Just one more question," Ryoga told her, "and then I'll go back to the doc's without a fight. It's... well, it's the most important one."  
  
"Spit it out, Ryoga, I can take it." Ranma's eyebrows were raised, wondering what the bandanna'd martial artist could possibly think was so vital.  
  
"Was that you at Jusenkyo?"  
  
Ranma's eyes widened. "W-what?"  
  
"There was a redheaded girl at Jusenkyo. I saw her. I... I stared at her for the longest time, because she looked so familiar; but I couldn't place her. I supposed that I must have seen her at some time during my travels. There was a man she was chasing, older and kind of scruffy-looking. Was that you?"  
  
She stared at him. "Are you cursed?" Ranma probed him with her eyes, as if she could tell by looking. She felt strange, and kind of dizzy, a loss of focus – almost as if she was viewing something from a distance at the same time as it stood right before her.  
  
Ryoga returned her pondering gaze evenly. "Are you?"  


  
----------

----------  


  
Author's Notes: PLEASE READ, IMPORTANT  
  
----- --This is the second-to-last chapter in this arc. After that, the story will be posted under another name: Juketsuzoku Fu.-------  
  
As for this particular chapter... things were going uber-slow. I remained on page 28 for literally three days as I worked my way through the entire thing, cutting some bits, adding others, and tightening the story overall. That was frustrating! :o During the beginning it was very slow, too. Poor Hikaru got another one of his important scenes cut, but it's okay because it will give him more screen-time later on.   
  
Thanks so much for reading! As always, critique and comments are appreciated, especially specific critique. 

* * *

[1] Well... I would've made this in Japanese, too, but I didn't know how to say, "Ranma, call the police."

[2] And the night is complete.

[3] I really don't mean to mock Ryoga's pain, here, which I've always considered very real; but I couldn't resist using torments that actually _happen_ to him in the Ranma 1/2 manga.

[4] Saoko was a character from another story I wrote: a young lady that Ryoga had a crush on in junior high. However, she liked Ranma instead. I literally always make references of this sort. If you were to be insane and have lots of time on your hands, you could, through connecting characters/lines/events, trace a wavering path back to the first story I ever wrote.

[5] He lost it during the fight with the Clatha.

[6] If you've ever been part of the workings of a school system, corporation, or anything else that requires one, you will know this to be true: within the system, the head secretary has more power than the principal, dean, and PTA combined.

[7] To everything there is a season... a time to speak, a time to shut up.


	7. The End of the Beginning

**Chapter Seven: The End of the Beginning**

"Well?" Ryoga inquired.  
  
_Damn it, girl, say something. Say anything. Don't just sit there. Tell him 'no'. Say, 'cursed?' and blink cutely. He stares at you, he's staring at you right now. He'll hear you and accept anything you have to say. Let him believe what he wants to believe.  
  
_She shivered a little, wrapping her arms around her frame, gazing at the roughness of the rooftop, the gritty pattern of it. Part of her wondered idly where this savvy, hard voice in her mind had come from, a voice that sounded a lot like Nabiki at her most malicious.  
  
The voice was chattering on, as if it wanted to distract her deepest self: _listen Ranma, listen, you can have Akane, you can have this dojo – heck! You already do, it's practically in the bag – you don't have to wander around like your old man did; you can live here in peace and quiet. Don't peace and quiet sound good? And isn't that what you really _deserve _after the kind of life you've led?   
  
_"My old man..." Ranma whispered. "I've become like his protégée or something."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Ranma shrugged. "Yeah, I'm cursed." She tried hard to sound cool, uncaring, a little bit offhand, like her curse was really no big deal.  
  
"So you _are_ cursed. I see." Ryoga chuckled to himself, shaking his head.  
  
"Well?! What's so funny about that, huh?"  
  
"It's not funny. I'm... relieved. I'm actually something bordering on elated," he confessed, grinning enough to show a bit of fang. "I kind of feel like this puts us back on common ground."  
  
Ranma scratched the back of her head, giggling nervously. "I doubt it," she murmured. Then suddenly, her eyes lit with surprise. " 'Common ground'?" she quoted. "Wait a minute! You're cursed, too?"  
  
Ryoga took a deep, steadying breath. "Yes... and I'm afraid my curse is... truly shameful."  
  
"Ditto. Mine's gotta be worse than yours, come to think of it."  
  
"_Not_ possible," he countered dryly.  
  
"I'd make you a bet if I felt like spilling my guts about the whole business," Ranma groused. "Though, come to think of it, it's not the curse itself that's dishonorable." She brought her right hand up to her forehead and rubbed distractedly, pulling her hand down her face.   
  
Ryoga frowned at her. "What are you saying?"  
  
She peered at him through the gaps between her fingers. "The truth is, I don't mind the curse itself. It's a bother and all, and it's... well, it's confusing. But mostly, it's the opportunity to put on a different face that's got me. The very real possibility of being someone new one minute to the next... and abandoning the person I was... his responsibilities and his honor. It's a mask I can wear when I feel I don't want to face real life. And I can use it to avoid making up for my mistakes. This curse makes it too easy to become dishonorable."  
  
Hibiki Ryoga examined her carefully, his brows furrowing in concentration. "I'm not sure I understand."  
  
Ranma shrugged. "Look. If you had the opportunity to put on another face, to go incognito, to abandon all of your obligations and responsibilities, wouldn't you? Especially if those responsibilities seemed like they were becoming more than you could handle?"  
  
The other martial artist shrugged, his eyes moving as he thought. "Well," he said, his hazel eyes meeting hers, "it's not like you can ever really abandon _yourself_. All that does it put off your responsibilities. Who you are will be waiting when you get back."  
  
He was taking her seriously! Ranma thought back to when Akane had first believed her about being a boy, without any proof, even. Ryoga was doing the same sort of thing, answering her honestly without examining her motives. When Akane had opened her heart to her, she'd felt warm and protected, and a little surprised. Did people like Akane really exist? Could it be true that there were people who had the ability to accept others that way, without wondering about the emotional cost?  
  
Now that Ryoga was doing the same, it gave her a different feeling. She felt incredibly guilty. He was trying to help her, and she was tricking him.  
  
"Ranma?" He was concerned over her.   
  
"Uh... okay, that's true. But what if you could just keep on pretending? What if you could keep going that way, and dodge the responsibility forever?"  
  
"That's impossible," Ryoga told her, a measure of irritation entering his voice. "Look, nobody can just keep avoiding responsibility. Their old life would catch up to them. Or, if someone were to create a new life, with new friends, a new home, even looking like someone else – that new life comes with new responsibilities, right? Then you've got two sets of obligations to deal with." He paused his halting answer for a moment, then looked up with new purpose in his eyes. "Ranma... what are we talking about, here?"  
  
"Two... sets of obligations..." Damn it, he was right. It seemed that she'd underestimated him, thinking he was just a set of muscles with a temper behind them instead of a brain. He could be... insightful when he wanted to be.  
  
He must've noticed her speculative stare, because he shrugged and said, "Feh. I guess wandering the globe on your own gives you plenty of time for thought."  
  
"No kidding." She offered him a small smile. "Listen, if we don't go soon, I'll be late for work." She rose off the rooftop's gritty surface and stretched her arms above her head.  
  
"Ranma," he said in a way that made the redhead stop mid-stretch and turn to look at him.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Uh... you're going to be sticking by me for awhile in case..."  
  
"That's right," she replied, wondering what he was getting at.  
  
"Even after all the things I've said to you..."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Look, if every insult hurt me I'd be dead ten times by now just from Pops alone. I got a thick skin, Ryoga; you don't need to worry about me none. I'm not saying it wouldn't be cool if you were a little bit nicer... a little bit more like you are right now," she finished, trailing off, wondering if she'd said or revealed too much. _That_ sure was becoming a familiar feeling.  
  
"I can't help it!" he snapped.   
  
"Can't help what? Insulting me?"  
  
"Yes! No... I mean, well, sort of."  
  
Ranma settled back down again, resigning herself to lateness. "That's a little ambiguous, Ryoga-kun. Try again."  
  
"Will you stop badgering me?! You're not making this any easier!"  
  
When Ranma said nothing in return, he seemed to gain hold of himself. He spoke in careful, measured tones. "What I mean is, I can't seem to stop myself. I feel myself getting angry – I _know_ there isn't a reason. My brain knows it. But somehow I find myself saying these things, doing these things..." He shook his head. "I think maybe that girl was right. I think that the wound did something to me. The... Clatha, whatever it's called. But if she was right about that, then that means... that means that she might have been right about the rest..."  
  
"Doc Tofu'll find a cure," Ranma said with a certainty she didn't quite feel. "You don't have to worry about that. Doc Tofu's the best, he really is. All you gotta worry about is keeping it together until then. We can do that."  
  
"We?"  
  
"Yeah, 'we'! Did you think me n' Akane were gonna leave you to your own devices?"  
  
He laughed then, sounding a little desperate; but the laugh was genuine.  
  
Ranma grinned back at him. "It's gonna be my quest to cure you, Ryoga. You'll see. I never lose." She clapped him on the back.  
  
It was then that a strange thing happened.  
  
As Ranma withdrew, his outstretched fingers touched hers. A strange jolt accompanied the touch, like a small, electric shock. Finally, a small burst of light the size of a winking firefly manifested, directly at the point of contact. It was a pale, sickly green color.  
  
"What the-?!"  
  
Ryoga stared at her, his dark eyes wild. "Shit," he breathed.

* * *

  
  
"So somehow we've synched up or whatever you call it," Ranma said, close on the doctor's heels as he wandered off to find a brace for a twisted ankle.   
  
The doctor wiped his hand across his forehead as if to clear it of memories from the previous evening. "I'm still not quite sure what you even did, Ranma," he informed the redhead, speaking over his shoulder as he rummaged through their notoriously badly organized series of medicine cabinets and cubbyholes. "Sucking the chi from another human being? And possessing such a talent naturally?"  
  
"I've always been good at the martial arts, doc," Ranma informed him. "I don't see the big deal."  
  
"This isn't martial arts, Ranma; this is chi manipulation, a big step from even the feats I've seen you perform. This isn't some kind of game or new special attack."  
  
"Then what is it?" Ranma queried, taking pity on the doctor and procuring a brace in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Thank you," he said, taking it and moving back into the patient's room. "A medical miracle," he replied.  
  
"A what?" inquired the small, slender lady lying within. "The brace? It is special in some way?"  
  
Tofu-sensei smiled reassuringly. "Ranma's chi manipulation is a medical miracle, Ishi-san."  
  
"I don't see how," the redhead sighed. "This is just useful for Ryoga, doc. How many other people need the depression sucked out of them on a daily basis?"  
  
"Quite a few, I'd say," Ishi-san replied. "Ite! Not so rough."  
  
"Sorry, I'm being impassioned," Tofu informed her. "It's difficult to be gentle and impassioned at the same time."  
  
"Granted, but – ow!"  
  
"Besides that," the doctor said, tightening the brace and strapping it closed, "depression isn't the only disease which might be aided by your talents, Ranma. Do you understand what this could mean, not just for you, but for science?"  
  
"What I understand is that I've become saddled with Ryoga Hibiki for possibly the rest of my life!" She grimaced. "Not to mention that he's saddled with me. We'll grate on each other, sensei, mark my words."  
  
"Ha! Or perhaps you'll simply become very, very close," the doctor offered innocently.  
  
Ranma shuddered.  
  
"Speaking of Ryoga, would you mind checking on him? I haven't seen him for five minutes; best to make certain he hasn't wandered off, burned a hole in the universe, that sort of thing."  
  
Ranma rolled her eyes and meandered off.  
  
From inside the examination room, she could still hear Ishi-san's voice: "Doctor? Burned a hole in the... What do you mean you aren't joking?"  
  
She smirked, and began to wandering around to look for the two guys who just couldn't seem to leave her alone.  
  
Oddly enough, she found them together, seated within the doc's office at his desk. Joi was sitting in Ryoga's lap, while the fanged boy pored over one of Tofu-sensei's more obscure medical texts.  
  
"Having fun?"  
  
She startled both boy and dog; the nearly identical expressions on their faces made the redhead double over with laughter.  
  
"What's so funny, huh?" Ryoga demanded, one hand poised to turn a page, the other resting on Joi's head.  
  
"Nothing. Hey, I thought you said he hated you," she accused, moving to stand near the pair. She leaned over and scratched behind Joi's ears.  
  
"He used to. Seems to like me, now, kinda."  
  
"What you up to, then?" she inquired, peering over his shoulder. "_Curses of the Beast_. Found anything good?"  
  
"Nah. I just thought, ya know, better to sit and read this crap than sit and do nothing. Right?"  
  
"Absolutely," the redhead asserted. "Anybody ever tell you that you're a little.. uh... mercurial?"  
  
"What the heck's that?"  
  
"Changeable, mutable." She smirked. "Moody."  
  
"Nah, you're the first."  
  
"First you're screamin' your head off at me, then we're having a heart to heart, and now you've become a scholarly expert on..."  
  
"Curses," he supplied.  
  
"Curses," she finished. "You're awfully weird, ya know that?"  
  
"Says the cross-dressing tomboy who steals chi by touchin' people," he slurred, rubbing his forehead. "Ow. Maybe too much reading."  
  
"I have to concede the point," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Two weirder people would be hard to find. So... anything in there about the Jhusenkyo kind of curse?"  
  
Ranma winced. Why had she brought _that_ up again? Did she have some kind of death wish?  
  
"Uhm... yeah, right here. Nothing real good, though."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"Eh, just some stuff about how it's pretty much impossible to cure – unless you want to stay in your cursed form, that is."  
  
"Oh?" Ranma felt like someone else had made the polite inquiry. A cold shiver was running through her entire soul, her sense of self. She didn't have to be a guy at all, then?  
  
The curse could become the reality?  
  
She remembered Ryoga's words: the second life could easily become as complicated as the first, even if the problems of her old life never caught up with her, which was unlikely. But didn't she owe it to herself to keep all her options open?  
  
_I mean, being a girl wasn't really all that different from being a guy – except... well, a lot of the stuff that got me liked as a guy, like being strong and outspoken, sometimes got me in trouble as a girl. There's all this girl-body stuff to deal with... but there's some guy-body stuff I'd sure look forward to losing._   
  
She sighed, a wistful smile crossing her features. _And then there's her.  
  
Akane..._  
  
Ryoga was looking up at her curiously, as though he'd somehow divined her thoughts. "That doesn't _interest_ you, does it?"  
  
Ranma laughed nervously. "No way! Just wondering what it would be like to be uncursed again."  
  
_Nice save_, she thought, _and true_.  
  
Ryoga's expression slowly shifted from one of suspicion, to one of temporary reprieve. Ranma knew he would bring this up again, later. "There's all sorts of stuff in here. Some stuff about possession, and I saw something about people who're lost..."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Mmm, this book at least mentions anything and everything. It's bound to have that Clatha thing in there someplace."  
  
Joi hopped down from Ryoga's lap and barked.  
  
"Like a little timer, aren't you?" Ranma teased the small dog. She looked up to Ryoga. "Time to feed the bottomless pit; and then I've got to go and train. Wanna come?"  
  
Ryoga frowned, looking slightly puzzled. "Uh... sure, I guess." He looked back at the book, and removed a single bandanna to mark his place.

* * *

"No..." Akane said for the third time. Ryoga marveled at the fact that her voice was still gentle, though. She did not seem disturbed by Hikaru's seeming lack of comprehension; rather, the youngest Tendo daughter seemed to be under the impression that if she explained it enough times, and in enough different ways, her student would eventually grasp the move she was attempting to demonstrate.  
  
Ryoga himself wanted to shoot the weak-looking boy. It would be natural selection, anyway. Hikaru Gosunkugi was thin, stringy, and always looked like he hadn't quite gotten enough sleep. Ranma's student, Tatewaki Kuno, was far more fit. In fact, the young kendoist had the makings of a great martial artist, though Ryoga privately thought that the swordsman did not possess half the potential of Ranma or himself, or even perhaps Akane. Despite her patience while working with others, Akane was a fury in private brawl, with a style so similar to his own that he longed to try his hardest moves on her. In fact, he would have been working with the others if Ranma hadn't convinced him not to.  
  
She'd made it sound so reasonable at the time, twisting his own words around until it sounded like he already had agreed not to fight the others, then using his own arguments to convince him to stand down. Her circular logic was a work of art; he could scarcely believe she was the same Ranma who'd had trouble piecing a coherent sentence together back in junior high; but she had been pretending to be someone else, then, Saotome Ranma, man among men.  
  
Akane's burst of laughter, followed by applause, snapped Ryoga away from his musings. He watched her small, slender student execute a perfect jump snap-kick.  
  
Kuno flourished a bow in acknowledgement of the less-experienced Hikaru, making the younger boy blush in embarrassment and stumble over his own feet. Ranma laughed, sharing some secret comment with Akane that made the Tendo girl blush, too. Despite all the fun, and despite the general feeling of tolerance the others demonstrated towards him, Ryoga felt very much on the outside. The four before him seemed bound by more than the martial arts that was being taught. They seemed... he didn't know. Connected in a way he couldn't place.   
  
Joi licked his hand in sympathy.  
  
"Oh. Hi."  
  
The small, brown-and-white dog's plumed tail waved enthusiastically in the air.  
  
Ranma and Akane set their students up to spar. They watched the pair, shouting out encouragement and criticism in the same breath. "Duck, Hikaru, duck!" "Good – no – _move, _you're not _moving_..."  
  
Ryoga watched them too, but he was feeling warm and lethargic. Joi crawled half into his lap, resting his cold nose against Ryoga's knee. He watched as Kuno struck hit after hit against the younger boy, although the kendoist was obviously holding back.  
  
"Come on, Ranma, let's have one decent battle," he said.  
  
Ranma stared over at him. "But..."  
  
"Unless you're afraid you'll lose."  
  
"I ain't afraid of losing to anybody," Ranma said with an odd mixture of masculine pride and feminine affectation. With her chin high in the air and one eyebrow arched like that, she truly appeared a woman scorned.  
  
"Ranma..." Akane warned lightly under her breath.  
  
The redhead's proud stance deflated under her friend's glare, but she shrugged. "Maybe it'll help rather than hinder, Akane. We have to test it to be sure." Her eyes were dancing merrily into Ryoga's though. She loved the martial arts with the same passion he did.  
  
Kuno strode up to the redhead. "Are you certain of this, my lady?"  
  
She nodded. "Thank you, sir," she replied with the utmost gravity, "but I do think this is for the best."  
  
He nodded, and withdrew.  
  
The redhead and the Lost Boy faced off outside the dojo. "Any rules, or no-holds-barred?" she inquired.  
  
"No-holds-barred," Ryoga replied.  
  
Akane broke in as she emerged from the dojo. "_I _have requirements. No special attacks, no ki manipulation. Simple jumps, kicks, and the occasional speed or strength technique."  
  
"Aw, Akane," Ranma moaned. "It's not like we can help the ki-transfer thing."  
  
"The what?" Akane queried.  
  
"You'll see," the redhead predicted.  
  
"You realize you're taking all the fun out of this," Ryoga accused the dark-haired girl.  
  
"No," Akane replied, "I'm protecting my home."  
  
The pair looked around.  
  
"Uh... perhaps my Iron Cloth technique might do some harm around here," Ryoga admitted, spying the supports to the dojo out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Ranma nodded. "Agreed. Shall we?"  
  
"I'll call it," Akane said. "Kuno, Hikaru. Watch closely but stay back."  
  
Neither liked this admonishment, but both withdrew to stand in the doorway of the Tendo Dojo.  
  
Akane grinned a little manically. "Ready? Fight!"  
  
Ryoga moved to circle Ranma. "I've picked up a couple of tricks since we last had a real fight, Saotome."  
  
The redhead grinned. "Excellent," she drawled. "You'll find I won't have been slacking, either."   
  
Ryoga watched her motions, despite the fact that it was a little embarrassing to be scanning a girl's body this boldly. He _had_ to show her he was better, even if it was just for his own peace of mind. Suddenly, he caught the slightest shift in her stance, and rapidly dodged away.  
  
Ranma flew through the air, foot extended, and tagged the edge of his arm despite his fair warning. Ryoga frowned. Somehow he'd been thinking of her as less skilled now that she was a girl full time. It was a foolish mistake. He rubbed his upper arm ruefully before shifting back into fighting stance.  
  
The redhead grinned at him and winked.  
  
He wondered why he hadn't seen this side of her before. Or had he been ignoring it? He suddenly got the impression that Ranma had goaded him into battle in order to get a decent workout, rather than because of any malicious intent. Just now, her eyes were sparkling with the joy of a girl doing what she loved.  
  
_Stop examining her eyes and start looking for her moves. Idiot._ Mentally slapping himself to attention, he allowed her to get several more attacks in as he thought. _She's fast – faster than I am by far. She's an aerial fighter, so her reach is long. If I can get in close, I might have a chance_.  
  
He closed in and grabbed her fists. Immediately, there was a response; green and silver flashed at their touching fingers before Ryoga could throw her backwards to land on her behind.   
  
She began to look irritated, and more than a little confused. "Exactly how strong _are_ you?"  
  
He grinned. "I could press a Buick."  
  
"Hn." She gave him more room, a mark of respect; but now they were done gauging one another. Ranma leapt for Ryoga, delivering ten rapid roundhouse kicks in the space of three or four seconds. Ryoga blocked the last two and grabbed her leg to twist her around. Ranma caught her fall by landing on her palms and springing directly back at the surprised martial artist. Ryoga took the hit directly in the gut, and stumbled back several steps, gaining some space. Ranma used this opportunity to punch him roughly in the solar plexus, hard enough so that the Lost Boy had the wind knocked out of him.  
  
All of this occurred in the first eight seconds of battle.  
  
Kuno, Hikaru, and Akane watched carefully.  
  
"How is she going that fast? How?" Hikaru managed.  
  
"I think it was seeing that Amazon girl do it," Akane replied, slightly calmer. She, after all, had witnessed her fiancée's prowess before. "Although Ranma hasn't matched that speed, she now knows it's possible to do so." Her serene expression was replaced with a frown. "But now I see what Ranma was talking about when she mentioned ki-transfer."  
  
Kuno remained silent in his contemplation. His eyes followed Ranma's progress rather than Ryoga's, as if she was drawing a map he intended to follow.   
  
Ryoga grimaced, and rejoined the battle with determination, going on the offensive. He swung and missed with a roundhouse punch as the redhead leapt lightly in the air, then barely tagged him with one foot on his forehead as he overextended. He snagged her legs before she landed, then swung her so she caught the brunt of the force with the back of her neck.  
  
"Owie!" She caught him between her legs, swung him over her head, and slammed him into the ground on the back of _his_ neck.  
  
"Ite!"  
  
"That's what you get!" She lifted him up with her legs and smashed him into the ground a few more times for good measure. "Yield?"  
  
"Not in a million years!" He twisted free of her grasp and moved to stomp her as she lay on the ground.  
  
She rolled away from his smashing foot, then couldn't help but laugh as his leg became lodged in the dirt. "Too strong for your own good!" she noted.  
  
He struggled to free himself, swinging with both arms. Ranma ducked and wove around his flailing limbs, sticking her tongue out and blowing the occasional raspberry the entire time. Finally, she managed a hit on his ribs, knocking him backwards far enough that, with his foot still stuck in the ground, he was performing the gymnastics maneuver, 'the Bridge'.[1]   
  
Ranma raised her own foot almost delicately and placed it atop Ryoga's knee. "Both your kneecaps are broken and your lung is punctured. Yield."  
  
"Yield," he said wearily.  
  
"It is? When-?!" Akane rushed to Ryoga to help him up.  
  
"They aren't really," Ryoga said, a strange wariness and incredulity in his voice. "They just would have broken if she'd followed through."  
  
Ranma shrugged, not looking all that embarrassed. "It's how she taught me to spar," she said with a nod to the dark-haired Tendo girl.  
  
Akane nodded in turn, then plucked Ryoga from the ground. Still holding onto the Lost Boy's forearm, she examined the hole he'd left behind. "Looks like a good spot to plant a tree," she half-joked.  
  
"Or an idiot," Ranma murmured, too softly for anyone but herself to hear.  
  
"That..." Hikaru said, "was awesome."  
  
Kuno nodded. "It truly was incredible. I believe Hibiki-san is above even my level."  
  
"It's true. Ryoga's the only one around here with enough skill to keep me on my toes," Ranma replied, gifting the Lost Boy with a backhanded compliment.  
  
Ryoga noted Akane stiffen. "What about Akane-san?" he inquired. He'd noticed by the way she moved that she was a high-caliber martial artist.  
  
"Oh." Ranma squirmed uncomfortably. "I've never fought Akane. I don't really like to fight girls."  
  
Ryoga shot a confused look Akane's way. "Why is that?" he inquired, massaging his right ankle.  
  
Ranma appeared confused in turn, as though the answer to that question should be obvious. "Well, you know. They're slower, uh... more delicate."  
  
"Than what?" Ryoga inquired.  
  
Akane smirked. "Well, Ranma?"  
  
"Than... er..." She blushed. "Me?"  
  
The youngest Tendo laughed. "Feel free to keep digging your own grave. It's really entertaining."  
  
Ranma stuck her tongue out.  
  
"Girls!"  
  
Ranma's head went up automatically. "Kasumi?"  
  
The young homemaker was standing in the doorway of the house, a wet rag in her hand and a kerchief around her hair. "Come inside, dear, I want you to see something. Boys, of course you're welcome too; when you're all finished playing, that is."  
  
"Tadiama!" Akane and Ranma said, slipping their shoes off and entering the house. Kuno, Hikaru, and Ryoga removed their shoes and followed.  
  
"I think I know what Kasumi's up to," Akane said, leaning towards Ranma. "Please don't be too upset."  
  
"Upset?" Ranma whispered. "Should I be upset?"  
  
"Well, I don't know," she said softly. "It's been awhile since I last saw you as a boy. Maybe it's no big deal."  
  
That caused bubbles of unease to drift through the redhead's blood like Alka-Seltzer. "Uh oh."  
  
Meanwhile, the boys had meandered over to the snacks that Kasumi had thoughtfully left in the sitting room. "Be right back," Ranma said, before following Kasumi up the stairs, where Nabiki was waiting, lounging casually against the hallway wall.  
  
Akane smiled. "That's new," she commented, gesturing towards her bedroom door.  
  
Instead of a small duck with the kanji for 'Akane' on it, there was now a duck-and-dog nameplate, with the kanji for 'Akane and Ranma'.  
  
The redhead felt something warm stir in her stomach. "Wow. Kasumi, thanks. That really means a lot."  
  
Kasumi's ever-present smile twinkled, and she opened the door.

Ranma's stomach now did a complete flip, almost exactly how she'd felt while sailing through the air, about to be smashed into the ground on her neck.  
  
Instead of one bed in the room, there were now two. Akane's was still draped with a yellow comforter that had sprays of pink flowers printed on it. However, the second bed was covered in a comforter that was so deep a rose color that it was almost red. Small, white Chinese symbols for luck, happiness, and long life decorated it.  
  
Ranma had to admit it was very 'her', despite the fact that it was... (shudder)... pink.  
  
The bed's wooden frame was white, and had a white bookshelf in place of a headboard. Kasumi had placed most of Ranma's schoolbooks there, as well as some of the medical books the redhead had borrowed from Tofu-sensei.   
  
Nabiki's smirk looked marginally closer to a normal smile, today. "Stop catching flies, Ranma-chan."  
  
Between both beds, and rather centrally located, was a large, long sort of pillow. "What's that for?" the redhead inquired, finally finding her voice.  
  
Joi passed Ranma going into the new room, and settled himself comfortably on the doggie bed.  
  
"That answers that question," Akane said, draping an arm around Ranma's shoulder. "Honey... what's wrong?"  
  
_Say that again. Call me that again!_ "Huh?"  
  
"You're crying."  
  
Ranma wiped at her eyes, mortified beyond belief. "No! I'm happy!" She reached for Kasumi and Nabiki as well, and then squeezed the three girls, hard.  
  
"Don't break my sisters, Ranma!"  
  
Come to think of it, Kasumi was making some rather strangled noises within her arms, and Nabiki was mumbling something in her shirt that sounded suspiciously like 'lawsuit'.  
  
"Oh. Whoops! Sorry!" Ranma giggled almost hysterically, wiping at her eyes. "K-Kasumi..."  
  
Kasumi smiled at her sweetly.  
  
"K-Kasumi...o-oneechan?"  
  
The smile widened.  
  
"Thank you soooo much."  
  
"You're welcome, Ranma-chan." She made a face. "Imouto-chan, I mean."  
  
"And Nabiki-oneechan..." Ranma said with a grin.  
  
"Think nothing of it," Nabiki said, uncharacteristically enough to make her elder sister stare. "I mean, it's not like you're a guest anymore, Ranma."  
  
Ranma wiped away more tears. "Omigosh, this is so cool!" she exclaimed at the bed, running up to it and bouncing experimentally.   
  
"There's more!" Kasumi said enthusiastically, moving to the closet.  
  
Ranma noticed Akane's face fall, and immediately sobered. Somehow, she didn't think that this next part was going to be quite as much to her liking.  
  
Kasumi began to pull out outfits. "There were some people who owed me some favors at J.C. Penney's[2]," she admitted, "or we couldn't afford all of this..."  
  
Ranma immediately clamped down on any complaints. It was obvious that Kasumi had made a sacrifice for her. The redhead closed her eyes and found her willpower, holding on to it at all costs. No matter how frilly the new clothes were – or how pink – or sexy – or dowdy, for that matter – she would smile and nod. Moreover, she'd pick the outfits she liked best from the pile... and she would wear them.  
  
This she vowed.  
  
Then she opened her eyes.  
  
A short-sleeved shirt the color of her bedspread was tossed her way. It was made to be tight, but was fashioned of soft, comfortable, breathable cotton. It was also without pattern or embellishment. She decided she could handle it. "Not bad." She blinked. "I mean, it's... er, pretty?"  
  
The next one was a dress, a blue even paler than her eyes. There was lace at the throat, at the bottom of the puffed sleeves, and around the edge of the knee-length skirt, which flared dramatically. A... sundress? Ranma wanted to puke, despite the inoffensive color, but she managed a sickly smile instead.  
  
A small, featureless, cotton black skirt. Short, but not indecent. _It'll go with the first shirt_, Ranma realized, surprising herself. She placed it in a growing pile atop her bedspread.  
  
The next item was a package of white cotton underwear with patterns of sushi on them. Ranma blinked, then dropped them onto the dark skirt with a helpless shudder of revulsion.  
  
Next, of course, came bras: a light grey sports bra, a pale pink cotton bra, and a silky midnight-blue one. Ranma found herself less inclined to drop these. She examined them carefully, wondering how they would feel and if she should do her best to wear one. Possibly this was due to the blush-inducing conversation with Nabiki, who had informed her that the male population of Furinkan was hypnotized every time she jogged. The redhead thoughtfully placed these in the pile, exchanging an amused glance with the older girl.  
  
It took Ranma awhile to understand the purpose of the next garment. She overturned the flimsy material in her hands several times before realizing that she was holding sheer stockings. Proper dress shoes followed.  
  
"Just how much did you buy?" Ranma inquired dazedly.  
  
"I came by some money," Nabiki said dryly. "You know... my 'hobby'. And we got Tofu-sensei's permission to use your second paycheck."  
  
Ranma wondered how the sly Tendo girl had managed that, but she wisely kept silent.   
  
More casual clothes followed: a loose red shirt and dark shorts, a pair of cutoff shorts like Nabiki's, and a tank top. Finally, a long, pale grey, diaphanous dress that ran through Ranma's hands like water. "What...?"  
  
"It's a nightgown, Ranma," Akane said helpfully.  
  
"It's negligee, Ranma," Nabiki tacked on. "But you're meant to sleep in it."  
  
Ranma examined the pale silver shimmery stitching at the hems, and the colorful embroidery. "Uhm... wow," she managed. She looked up at Kasumi. "Uh, thanks."  
  
"Akane picked that one out," Kasumi admitted.  
  
There was one last pair of pyjamas: a white, long-sleeved button-up shirt and long, drawstring pants. "It's so much," Ranma said, once the trio admitted that they'd reached the bottom of the barrel. "I can't believe it."  
  
"It isn't much at all," the eldest Tendo girl informed him with a shrug. "In fact, it's the bare minimum: three bottoms, three tops, three bras, five pairs of panties, two pairs of pyjamas and a dress, stockings, and shoes in case anything formal presents itself."  
  
"But what about my old clothes?" she inquired softly.  
  
"Old clothes, old life," Nabiki summed up succinctly. "You don't have to pretend to be a boy for your dad anymore, Ranma. We're your family now."  
  
Kasumi broke in. "We're not saying you need abandon the idea of your father entirely, Ranma. We know he's important to you. But for now, you must think of your own well-being." Her expression shifted to slightly annoyed. "Besides, Ranma, it's only proper that a girl wear girl's clothing – especially things like panties and 'support'."  
  
Ranma had to agree, at least to herself, that Kasumi was making sense. From the Tendo girl's own point of view, refusing would seem ridiculous as well as ungrateful. "Of course," she agreed humbly.  
  
Kasumi seemed slightly startled by the redhead's sudden acquiescence, but in a moment, her expression of surprise was replaced by one of pleasure. "We're glad to have you, Ranma. I think that Father wishes to speak with you as well. I believe he has something of great importance to impart. Right now, he's with your friends downstairs. Why don't you come down once you've finished putting your new clothes away?" Kasumi slipped out the bedroom door.  
  
"Yeah, and I have to thank Tofu-sensei for being so... accommodating," Nabiki said with a grin.  
  
"Wait! How'd you get him to be so... accommodating?" Ranma inquired, her tone a dead ringer for Nabiki's.  
  
The mercenary grinned, sharklike. "Simple." She reached into her pocketspace and retrieved several simple pictures of Kasumi – doing the laundry, smiling prettily, and pruning the garden. "The good doctor figures that if he looks at these several times a day, he might get over his Kasumi-itis."  
  
"Tell him good luck from me!" Ranma said.  
  
"From us," Akane corrected, placing a proprietary hand on the redhead's shoulder.  
  
Nabiki's look flashed to puzzled for a moment before she, too, slipped out the door.  
  
Akane bounced up and down, clapping her hands in childlike delight. "Oh, Ranma, isn't this so cool? We're like real roommates now!"  
  
Ranma couldn't help but share in the dark-haired girl's enthusiasm as she retrieved her new clothes from their pile, hanging them up carefully and putting them in Akane's closet. "Too bad I can't stay here, though. I'm going to have to go right back to the clinic to sleep with Ryoga." She scrunched up her features in distaste. "Ew, you know what I mean."  
  
"Let me be happy in the now," Akane commanded, gathering Ranma's new black skirt in her hands. "I really like having you here, Ranma."  
  
"I don't know I'll be here that much longer."  
  
"Oh, Ranma, don't talk like that," Akane whispered. She moved to sit next to Ranma on her new bed, using her right arm to pull the redhead close. "We're gonna be together a long time, you and me."  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"You can count on it." Akane leaned in to kiss Ranma softly on the cheek. "You'll see, Ranma. It'll be all right."  
  
Ranma felt as though all of the nervous energy that had been holding her together over the past couple of weeks was being drained out of her. Much more comfort, and she was going to come apart completely.  
  
Standing up with a jerk, Ranma continued hanging up her new clothes.  
  
"Why are you so worried anyway?" Akane snapped, the mood broken.  
  
"I'm not worried, I'm upset," the redhead replied, fussing with the way her clothes were hanging. "I feel so guilty... so bad... about fooling your sisters."  
  
"Nabiki fools people for a living."  
  
"Somehow that only makes it worse. Fooling the fooler should make me proud, I guess... but it doesn't."  
  
Akane was silent for a moment, smoothing the deep rose comforter distractedly. "Ranma... do you like me?"  
  
"Of course I like you!"  
  
"No..." Akane's dark eyes swung up to meet Ranma's. "I mean really like me."  
  
Ranma gulped. For some reason, a thousand insults were coming to mind. _How could I like a girl like you, a girl who broke my friend's arm? How could I like a girl like you, who might give me a run for my money in a fight? How could I like a girl like you, who lies to her family in favor of a stranger? _  
  
But Ranma knew her heart. She'd become familiar with it over the past few weeks in the same way that she'd become familiar with the Tendo household. At first, she really hadn't known her way around. Everything was strange and alien, turns leading to unexpected places. However, now she'd walked the paths of her soul long enough to know the answer.  
  
She just wasn't sure she could say it.   
  
How could she say it now? Enrolled in school as a girl. A closet full of female clothes. She was shocked by how little they had shocked her. She could almost say she didn't really mind them at all.  
  
She could almost say that the idea of viewing Akane as a sister for the rest of her life would be better than screwing this up right now.  
  
Almost.  
  
"More than that," Ranma answered softly. "I... I think I'm in love with you."  
  
"R-Ranma...?" Akane's eyes were wide, and her expression was blank with surprise.  
  
Ranma had to go on in hopes that, beneath all that shock, Akane's heart held some love for her, too. "I think I loved you the moment Joi walked right over to you and wagged his tail... I know I felt something, then. And I felt more when you told me how little you liked fighting. And every day since then... every day since then has been the best day of my life..."  
  
Akane's trembling hands lifted slowly to press against her lips.  
  
"Aw, man, Akane... please say _something_! I'm pouring my heart out, here!"  
  
The dark-haired girl gave a half-giggle, half-sob, and threw herself into Ranma's arms. "You don't know what I've been going through!" she wailed. "I'm so messed up! I always hated boys, but... but the idea of girls..."  
  
Ranma felt the other girl shiver in her embrace.  
  
"Don't get me wrong, it was fine for other people, but... not for me! And then you come along, and I get all mixed up..."  
  
"I'm sorry," Ranma said, stroking Akane's long hair underneath her hands.  
  
"No! No, you were just right! I... I love you too, Ranma. And I don't care if you _are_ a... eh, whatever you are. I love... _you_."  
  
Ranma grinned at the weeping girl's confused ramblings. "We'd better get down there before they start wondering how the stockings managed to baffle me so much."  
  
Akane withdrew, sniffling and wiping her eyes. "Wah, I'm so sorry," she said. "You're all wet."  
  
"Guess now's the time to try out a bra and shirt," Ranma opined, grabbing the midnight-blue bra and the dark rose shirt.  
  
"Let me help." Akane's deft fingers handled the clasps and tightened the straps. "That's about right. How does it feel?" She sniffled again.  
  
"Like a jock strap for my chest," Ranma deadpanned.[3]  
  
"Just keep thinking about it that way," Akane advised.[4]

* * *

Soun was seated at the head of the table, with Ryoga across from him, and Kuno and Hikaru to his left and right, respectively. Kasumi sat beside Hikaru, while Nabiki was conspicuously absent.  
  
Ryoga was nodding emphatically when Ranma arrived and seated herself next to Kuno. Kasumi scooted over to allow Akane enough room to sit next to her fiancée. Joi crawled under the table and lay with his muzzle resting on the redhead's knees.  
  
"Ah, that is good, then," Soun said to Ryoga thoughtfully, smoothing his moustache. He turned to the redhead. "Ranma, how would you characterize your friend Ryoga?"  
  
Ranma considered. "Well... he's slower than me, but he sure packs a punch. I think he'd do better with a weapon than barehanded. Why?"  
  
Soun chuckled. "No, Ranma, I didn't mean martially. Personally."  
  
The redhead blushed. "Uh... he's..." She strove to find the words, becoming increasingly embarrassed. She sensed that now was not the time to mention his bevy of curses, or their encounter on the roof. "He's... loyal to those he trusts... and he's... well, he's a gentleman to most girls... and he needs help." She blushed even redder at her last statement.  
  
"Hey!" Ryoga protested.  
  
"Well, you do! In lots of ways!" she shot back.  
  
"I see. So you consider him honorable, then?"  
  
Ranma brightened. 'Honorable' – that she could understand. "Oh, sure he is. Almost to a fault."  
  
"That's good then. Kasumi?"  
  
Kasumi stood. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed cheerily. "I've made up the guest room for you, Ryoga-kun, if that's all right."  
  
"Wait a minute. What's happening?" the Lost Boy wanted to know, his voice slightly panicky.  
  
Ranma's eyes widened as she put two and two together. "The best thing in your life. Shush and follow the nice lady... carefully."  
  
It was a measure of how much their relationship had altered that, although he rolled his eyes, he also obeyed.  
  
"Tendo-san, it seems your kindness knows no bounds. I don't know what to say." Ranma kowtowed, not knowing a more drastic way of indicating her indebtedness to the man. Joi gave a low whine at being displaced from her lap.  
  
"Nonsense, Ranma. If you had been a boy, you would have been my son by now. I can hardly see you as anything other than a daughter to me at this point."  
  
Ranma took a deep, shuddering breath, finding her center by gazing at Kuno and Hikaru. They trusted her –believed in her, or who she pretended to be.  
  
"No need to look so worried, Ranma," Soun advised with a smile. "We have important things to discuss, however. One of them is your friend, Ryoga. Is Tofu-sensei any closer to discovering a cure?"  
  
She shook her head, stroking Joi's fur. "I'm afraid he isn't. Ryoga himself is searching as well." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Do you know anything that might help?"  
  
Soun considered. "I know someone powerful enough to possibly lend aid, but I doubt he would oblige. I'm sorry, dear."  
  
Ranma forced herself to recall her form all over again. _There's nothing wrong in his saying that!_ A glance at Akane, this time, and she was steadied, as if by magic. Akane had that ability, whether they were balanced on the fence physically or emotionally. Ranma smiled gratefully. "I'll do whatever it takes, though," she replied. "Ryoga was looking to settle a score with me, and that's how he was hurt."  
  
"That involves your honor, then," Soun replied.  
  
Ranma nodded. "Yes. I think it does."  
  
"I'm glad you find your honor important," Soun told her.  
  
Ranma swallowed painfully. The sentence had an unspoken addition, which she heard clear as day. "Unlike pops," she replied.  
  
The Tendo patriarch looked uncomfortable. "He was my best friend, Ranma. No one is saddened more than I to see Genma reduced to madness. He and I went through a lot of the same experiences, and they weakened me as well; so I fault him less than I might."

Kuno and Hikaru remained silent, but observed and listened, taking this rare opportunity to learn more about the enigmatic redhead.

Mirroring Ranma, Soun took a deep breath. "However, Genma's honor does not concern me at this point. Yours does."  
  
A thrill of pure, unadulterated terror ran down Ranma's spine. Her hand sought Akane's, her fingers automatically lacing through the other girl's. Akane gripped Ranma's hand tightly in return.  
  
"M-my honor?" Ranma managed. It sounded as though it hadn't been she who'd said it. It sounded faraway.  
  
"Indeed." His voice became slightly less formal. "Ranma – your attitude and your spirit demands respect. However, I have seen your kindness, your willingness to teach and learn from others. Your time at Tofu-sensei's is not wasted; it is good that a martial artist not only learn the workings of the human body, but also respect for it. I think you're gaining that at Ono's practice." He cleared his throat. "Despite the fact that you are not a boy, I could not have been happier with your conduct there and here."  
  
Ranma found herself flushing, not only from the high compliment, but from shame. "Thank you," she whispered, ducking her head in an approximation of a bow.  
  
"That is why I would be honored if you would indeed continue the Anything Goes School with my youngest daughter, Akane."  
  
Akane's head snapped up. "Huh? What's this about, daddy?"  
  
Ranma and Akane turned to look at one another, hardly believing what they were hearing.  
  
"You have convinced me that you are both ready to teach students, young lady," Soun informed his daughter. "That is what this is about. I saw Ranma fight with Hibiki Ryoga today, and I was quite impressed. Moreover, I have been watching you and your friends in the dojo for several days now, and you apparently possess the patience that teaching demands." He cleared his throat. "Thus... the Dojo is open to students again. I've asked Nabiki if she would please dip into her funds to begin an ad campaign. However, I trust that you will reserve the right to deny training to anyone you deem unworthy."  
  
Akane gaped. "Daddy...!"  
  
"Here is a schedule that Nabiki and Kasumi and I worked out together; however, see if it is to your liking."  
  
Soun handed the pair a schedule with blocked-out boxes for every class. "Beginner's and Advanced," the older man filled in. "If and when we sign up a lot of students, we can create an intermediate class. Anything Goes has never really had a true belt system, but I am thinking that we should probably create one, now. Students like to have their progress manifest in direct and tangible ways. Wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Ranma and Akane nodded mutely.  
  
Hikaru closed his jaw with an audible snap.  
  
"Does that mean we are now truly students of Anything-Goes?" Kuno inquired in a voice that was so removed from his normal bluster that Ranma turned to stare.  
  
"That it does, my boy," Soun said merrily, slapping him on the back. "You may even receive a specialized gi! Nabiki's looking into the budget."  
  
Ranma still looked enough like a fish out of water that she began to warrant concern.  
  
"Ranma-chan, are you all right?" Soun inquired. "I know that all these trappings aren't part of 'real' martial arts – no martial artist who takes herself seriously relies on belts to tell her of her own skill. I realize that. However, you must understand that the beginners..."  
  
Ranma then did something she hadn't done since she was seven.  
  
She voluntarily hugged another man.  
  
"Oh, well then," Soun said, patting her on the back awkwardly. "I see you approve."  
  
Hikaru laughed. "Ranma-sensei looks a bit beyond speech right now."  
  
Ranma nodded as she withdrew. _I can't believe I just did that. Screw the hug, I can't believe the dojo is ours! _She pulled Akane to her in a half-embrace. "I'm sorry, S... Ten... uh... sir, what should I call you?"  
  
"Your father called me Tendo. You may do the same."  
  
"Ah. Er, Tendo, I'm really, really happy. I can't imagine what I've done to deserve this. I can't thank you enough!"  
  
Soun laughed. "Take it easy, Ranma-chan. You've done plenty. I've never seen my little girl as happy... except, perhaps, when her dear mother was alive. Nabiki has opened up, even to me – it's hard to appreciate the significance without having known her before your arrival. She has always had such trouble trusting others, but I think you're teaching her to do so again. You've brought the Tendo Dojo its first students in ten years." He cleared his throat. "Pardon me, the Tendo-_Saotome_ Dojo."  
  
Ranma beamed at him.  
  
"And you've given this old man some purpose," he confided. "Purpose I am relatively certain I would not have found on my own. Kasumi is a tough nut to crack," he added, "but I'm sure you'll get to her, too. You've brought this place back to life, Ranma."  
  
He stood, signaling the end of the discussion, just as Kasumi and Ryoga entered through the kitchen.  
  
"So," Ryoga said, "what did I miss?"

* * *

An hour later, Kasumi was putting the finishing touches on dinner, while Ryoga talked martial arts and history homework with Kuno and Gos. Nabiki was still at Tofu-sensei's, and Soun was on the phone with a printing company to find out whether they could print a specific design on gis.  
  
Akane sat with her head leaning against Ranma's shoulder. The pair of them were viewing the flashes of orange as the koi darted rapidly through the pond.  
  
Ranma's elation was slowly fading, leaving her with a worse feeling of nervous guilt than before. She had just pulled off the biggest acting coupe ever; but as when she had been fooling Nabiki, it did not have the effect of making her feel clever or successful.   
  
"I have to tell your dad," Ranma whispered. "I can't keep doing this!"  
  
Akane's head jerked up from the redhead's shoulder. "And why not? It's working, isn't it? What's the problem?"  
  
"This isn't fun anymore," the redhead protested. "I mean, at first I thought, 'I deserve this. I've had a hard life. Why not relax for awhile?'. But I'm just making myself happy by making everyone else miserable. Your dad really _trusts_ me – the way he trusted pops, maybe. How do you think he'd deal with a betrayal like this? What about Nabiki? What about Kuno and Gos? What'll _they_ think, if they hear my secret from someone else? And now Ryoga."  
  
Akane sighed, her shoulders slumping with the motion. "We may be in too deep to back out, Ranma. Have you thought about that?"  
  
She nodded. "I know. I have. But I was also thinking about being a girl forever, when we were upstairs? And I'm not sure if I can really abandon my guy self."  
  
"Bull," Akane replied.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Bull, I said. You even get sick every time you turn back into a guy!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you actually telling me that you never put that together?" Akane's head tilted slightly to the side; she was genuinely puzzled. "You may find staying a woman forever sort of daunting, Ranma; but you seem to find being a man even more difficult than that. Something about being a guy makes you sick."  
  
Carefully, Ranma thought back to the few times she'd been male over the past month. Each time was characterized by a debilitating dizziness, and stomach cramps. Oddly, she didn't recall so much as a cold before arriving at the Tendo Dojo.

Pushing logic aside, Ranma countered, "no way, Akane. There was just something wrong with the curse then, that was all."  
  
Joi hid behind Ranma's crouching form, whining softly in protest. He couldn't understand how two of his favorite people could be having such a heated disagreement.  
  
Akane seized on his presence. "And what about him?" she demanded, pointing to the cringing animal. "Why do you think he hates guys so much? Because that's the feeling he gets from you!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ranma snapped. "Joi has nothing to do with it. How do I know where he gets his many neuroses? Besides – you just want the stupid dojo. You can't stand the thought of having it taken away; and that's the _real_ reason you don't want me to come clean."  
  
"Isn't there another reason you're considering confessing to daddy and the others? Maybe you feel like if you were a guy, it would be easier to say you loved me. It's true that Daddy might have a problem with his little girl dating... well, another little girl."  
  
"Worse than that. Your dad would level the entire block trying to hit me with that demon-head ki thing."  
  
Akane blinked. "How do you know about that?"  
  
Ranma smirked. "Saw him use it on a traveling salesman once. You should have seen how fast that guy made tracks."  
  
"Hmm." Akane wasn't one to be distracted, however. "Put the evidence together, Ranma. Who threw you into a pit of ravening animals with fish sausages tied around your body?"  
  
"Pops," Ranma replied gamely. "So?"  
  
"Who tossed railroad spikes at you as a kid, saying it would 'increase your speed'?"  
  
"Pops of course," Ranma replied. "Where's this going?"  
  
"And who decided Jhusenkyo would make a _lovely_ place to train...?"  
  
"I'm seeing a pattern here."  
  
"Who took you away from your mother at a tender age, saying it was for your own good?"  
  
"Pops did," the redhead replied, beginning to become angry – not at her friend, but at Genma. "The ass."  
  
"And who engaged you against your will to a possible harridan, without your knowledge or consent?"  
  
"Damn it! I _hate_ him!"  
  
Joi began to growl, deep and low in his throat, the kind of noise dogs make just before they go for the jugular.  
  
"That's my point," Akane cut in, more gently this time. "The main – no, the _only_ – male figure in your entire childhood. And you _hate him_."  
  
Ranma felt a cold tingle run through her, raising the hair on her arms. "You're saying..."  
  
"I think you associate being male with being careless or stupid or cruel," Akane filled in.   
  
Ranma swore again, staring at the hands folded in her lap with an intensity usually reserved for mortal enemies. "Could that be it?" she wondered.  
  
Akane took a deep breath and let it out slowly, to release her own angry emotions. Then she scratched Joi comfortingly under his chin. "Look, everyone's got their 'things'. I hate guys 'cause I developed early, and boys were after me before I was ready."  
  
Ranma burst into relieved laughter. "That and the Hentai Brigade!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, them too."  
  
"And Kuno."  
  
"Yeah, this kind of aversion usually requires several reinforcements."  
  
"You've been reading Tofu-sensei's psych books again, haven't you?"  
  
"Caught me." Akane ruffled Joi's hair before turning back to the redhead. "But in all seriousness, maybe it's best you stay a girl – not just for our situation, but for your state of mind."  
  
"Even supposing you _are_ right, wouldn't it be better if I just got over the idea that all guys are worthless?"  
  
Akane flinched. "Yes. I know I'm being selfish... but... I love you, Ranma. I want you to stay. And if you told Daddy about your curse, he'd kick you out. And if you went back to being a guy, you would leave me." She hung her head. "How can you do it? How can you make me feel this safe and then tell me you're thinking of leaving me? How can you make me this happy and then tell me you're thinking of taking it all away?" Tears gathered in her eyes, and her lower lip trembled.  
  
"Uhh..." a new voice sounded behind the pair.  
  
Ranma peered over her shoulder to find that Hikaru had somehow stolen up on the two of them.  
  
Akane's tears vanished like magic. "Was there something you _wanted_?" she inquired in her frostiest voice.  
  
"K-Kasumi says that dinner's ready."  
  
"Thanks, Gos," Ranma replied, rising.

The dismissed boy scurried back into the house with an obvious feeling of reprieve.

"Kasumi's gonna have a real big crowd tonight, huh, Akane?" Ranma prompted, attempting to gauge just how upset her friend was.  
  
Akane's lips twitched listlessly, as though she was trying to remember how to smile.  
  
"Come on, Akane. We'll worry about it when it's time and not before." Ranma grabbed one of Akane's limp hands and hoisted her to her feet. She wrapped an arm close around Akane's shoulders. "I love you. I love you. I love you," she whispered as they made their way inside.  
  
The table was lit with candles instead of the usual electric lights; it was also piled with food. Miso soup, red beans and rice, a bowl of fresh, early autumn fruit, and a large beef bowl dominated the spread. Kasumi came in bearing hot sake, and poured for everyone at the table. The general feeling was festive, bolstering Akane's mood almost immediately.  
  
Kuno lit up at the sight of them as if it had been his dream coming true rather than theirs, and Kasumi looked no less joyous. "To celebrate the re-opening of the dojo," Soun said, but Ranma understood that wasn't exactly the reason. Everyone's eyes on hers, warm and accepting, told her that she was the focus of this party – she and her new room and her new clothes and her new self.  
  
Ryoga came in from the kitchen carrying an especially heavy tray of steamed and spiced vegetables. "Here we go," he said, and he was smiling – really smiling. Ranma thought it was the first time she'd ever seen give her a smile that wasn't half a grimace. He looked happy but a little dazed, moving through unfamiliar emotional territory. Once he'd set the dish on the table, he resumed his seat across from Soun, the space for an honored guest. Kasumi settled to his left, Akane to her left. Ranma sat next to Akane, to Soun's right. Kuno and Hikaru sat across from Akane and Ranma.

She gazed at all of them with her eyes open, really seeing them, her family and her students and her friends. _I'm lucky, aren't I? I'm really lucky._

She turned to gaze at Akane, whose eyes seemed to dig deep into her self. They told Ranma that they liked what they'd found.

_I can do this_, Ranma thought._ Not for me, this time: for them. _ _I can be a girl. In fact, it's nothing I haven't been doing for weeks now... and maybe Akane's right about my guy side. I owe these people... my family... I owe them enough to try. _

_  
Well, Ranma Saotome, man amongst men – it's been fun._

_  
Eh, strike that. This was way more fun from day one._ Ranma's hand squeezed hers under the table, and Akane returned the pressure with an additional smile.

"In the name of the new combined martial arts – we celebrate the opening of Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes," Soun intoned, lifting his sake in a toast. "As well as the girl who brought one half of that equation to our door. Kanpai!" he exclaimed.

"KANPAI!" the table announced, and drank.

"But I hate to do this all without Nabiki," Kasumi said as she began to serve the vegetables. "Still, I couldn't hold dinner one moment longer, or the veggies would have scorched. I wonder what's keeping her?"

"I'm sure it's something important," Ranma said around a preemptive bite of beef bowl.

"Yes, I do not believe Nabiki would want to miss this," Kuno offered, delicately gesturing with a small piece of zucchini caught between his chopsticks.

"Kasumi-san, it's wonderful!" Ryoga exclaimed.

"Especially after food on the road, right?" Akane inquired insightfully.

"Eat up. You're skin and bones as it is," Ranma admonished, plopping a gargantuan serving of red beans and rice on the Lost Boy's plate. "Someday I'd like to see you look halfway normal again."

Ryoga bristled. "Are you saying I'm not normal?" he growled.

"He's _saying_ that you look like you're at death's door," Akane said, not noticing her vocal slip.

Ranma cast about the room for a distraction before anyone could correct Akane's mistake. A figure moving through the doorway caught her attention. "Nabiki! You're back!"

Nabiki moved to the table with angry strides, skirting Ranma and Akane to take her place next to Kuno. But she didn't sit down.

Instead, she scooped the sake pitcher in one hand and tossed the hot liquid directly at Ranma in one, jerky motion.  
  
Immediately, Ranma could feel the change – the dizziness – the sickness at the pit of his stomach. The pull of the cloth in his shirt as it expanded around his torso. The removal of his breasts, the changes... down there, down where Ranma really didn't like to think about the curse... the sudden realization that everyone was staring...  
  
Somehow he'd shoved it away in the back of his skull where it wouldn't get the light and nutrients it needed to survive: the idea that he was cursed. It had always been there, of course, but it had started to lack meaning or significance, like a game he used to play as a child but had since forgotten. The reality of it had slipped, passed him by. People _couldn't _really alter their entire _selves_ in such a way, his unconscious mind informed him primly.

Although Ranma had been a boy for most of his life, he had only possessed the curse – or, rather, been possessed by it – for two months before meeting Akane and the Tendos; and those two months were like something out of a nightmare, the days and sleepless nights bleeding together as Ranma thought what he now knew were mad thoughts. He'd been afraid he'd go insane, that he'd lose himself, that he'd become a girl in mind as well as body and demand to arrange flowers or stop practicing martial arts, that he'd do all those things _without_ losing himself, that his father would abandon him because he was no longer a real man, not even a real person, just a freak, that people would somehow _know_ how wrong he was by looking, what a perversion of nature, and avoid him without even knowing why... His first month or so with the curse had been like one, long, Neko-ken episode, where he remembered images and faces and even words, sometimes, without quite understanding their connected-ness or significance.

Ranma had never quite had time to acclimatize to his curse – if such a thing was even possible. And despite having his curse be the focus of much angst, confusion and suffering while he was in Nerima, the truth was that it had become something of an abstract to him. His unconscious mind hadn't seen it as 'real'. So, for far longer than he should have, he sat without speaking, without moving, pleading to himself that this was some kind of deranged nightmare, that any moment now, Akane would flick on the lights and sleepily demand to know whether Ranma was having another cat dream.

No one said a word. Ranma began to wish someone would speak, even if it were to issue a scream. Across the table, he could see Kuno and Hikaru's features looking almost comically shocked, while Nabiki, despite having done the deed and having done it on purpose, gazed at him with wide eyes and compressed lips.

Ranma had always thought of Nabiki as powerful and responsible and beautiful and terrible, but the way her eyes looked – so big and haunted, making her face look small – suddenly reminded him that Nabiki was only a year older than he was. She looked like a little kid who's torn off Santa's beard only to find it's been daddy all along. "As you can see," she said, as if continuing a conversation halfway through, "the Jhusenkyo curse was real all along. It's a _boy_, Daddy. It's always been a boy."

_'It'_. Ranma's entire body shuddered involuntarily.

"What... how...?" Akane rasped.

"I have no idea how," Nabiki replied.

"No, I mean how'd you find all this out," she managed.

Nabiki laughed, low and harsh, then drew a yellow, black-spotted bandanna out of her pocket. "Ryoga was looking at a book on curses for some light reading," she said. "I was curious, so I opened the page he had marked. Jhusenkyo. Well, so? I thought it was a real _legend_, not the real deal. I wasn't sure until I splashed... him." She jerked her head towards Ranma's still figure, not meeting his eyes since her original stabbing look of betrayal.

"N-Nabiki..." he managed, wanting to somehow make it right for her – but his own, baritone voice startled him, and he gave a small jump at the sound of it.

"Don't even talk to me!" she screeched, taking a step away from his half-outstretched hand. "How _could_ you?!" This was in a pained whisper that didn't sound like it should have come from her mouth, especially after such a panicked command.

Ranma thought that Nabiki would dash away, then, perhaps to her room; but he should have known better. Nabiki held her ground, wiping the tears from her eyes as they came, glaring at him with whatever willpower she still retained. He felt a fierce stab of admiration... and pride... before he realized that the second part didn't belong, that he would have no more connection to her after this than a stranger.

Wildly, he thought if he could just explain it to Kasumi, then perhaps she could ease the rest of the family to understanding. " 'Neechan –"

Kasumi jerked away from him, fear in her eyes, shaking her head.

Damn it all, he'd made Kasumi upset, something that he'd thought literally impossible.

Then his eyes lit on Ryoga.

Ryoga's gaze was confused, and as surprised as Kuno and Hikaru's had been; but then Ranma watched something more frightening than Ryoga's rages, and more affecting than his deep depressions.

He watched Ryoga go rigid, then close off every part of himself systematically, like he was a nuclear reactor slowly powering down, light and energy dimming to a dark and dangerous blankness. Like he was turning his soul to stone, the fury and the pain being walled off behind a will of granite.

"Ryoga...!" Ranma felt his protective instincts rise to the fore, allowed himself to push away his own problems for the time being.

Ryoga's eyes, turning on him, looked as flat and lifeless as unpolished bloodstone. "I should have known," he said dimly. "Hah. 'Everybody leaves'," he quoted, a self-mocking sneer painted across his face. "What a dumb thing to say. The real problem is that no one was ever really there to begin with."

"Ryoga, no!" Akane, at least, seemed to feel the cold blankness behind the Lost Boy's words.

Ryoga rose from the table and moved to the door without another word.

"You idiot, _wait!_" Ranma demanded. He scrambled to his feet and reached for Ryoga's arm.

Contact.

And...

_Nothing?_

Instead of sickly green chi, Ranma felt oblivion, _absence_. He had just enough time to register shock before Ryoga's arm slammed into him, tossing him easily over the table and into the sitting room.

Then Ryoga was gone, out the door and over the Tendo enclosure with a single leap.

Kuno, Hikaru, Ranma, Kasumi and Soun had swung their shocked gazes after Ryoga's retreating figure; but Nabiki dismissed him from consideration with an impatient wave of her hand. "_You!_" Nabiki accused.

Ranma's thoughts snapped back to the situation at hand. He shook his head rapidly, and rolled back to his feet. Kuno was frowning in confusion, but Hikaru looked lost and betrayed. Ranma turned to Soun, expecting to see anger; but the older man's expression mirrored Hikaru's, causing an excruciating pang of guilt to run through him. "Yeah, Nabiki?"

"Not you! _YOU!_"

Akane blinked. "Me?"

"Yes! You switched the water!"

"Huh?" Ranma managed.

"Don't play dumb! Akane switched the water in the teapot from hot to cold!"

"What?" Kasumi looked tired, and was rubbing her temples. "What water, Nabiki?"

"When Ranma first arrived," Nabiki explained patiently, "her father tried to demonstrate the curse. He asked Kasumi to boil water, which she did. But somehow, Akane knew, and poured the hot water down the sink, replacing it with cool water from the tap. That way, the curse wouldn't be triggered."

"Triggered?" Soun managed.

"That's right. Don't you remember, Daddy? Hot water turns him into a boy; cold water turns him into a girl. That's what Mister Saotome said. So Akane made sure it was cold water."

Kasumi turned to her little sister with tears in her eyes. "Akane... w-why? Why did you do this to your f-family, who loves you?"

Akane shifted uncomfortably. "Ranma needed my help."

"Ranma needed your help?!" Nabiki screeched. "Listen, princess, we could've used your help a little more ourselves!" For a moment, the middle Tendo daughter grit her teeth, seeming too furious to speak. "You just did this for fun, didn't you? For something to do? Or was it some way to get me back for selling pictures of you to _him_–"

Kuno took a rapid, shaky breath. "Please leave me out of –"

"Shut up!!!" the two Tendo girls chorused.

"You did it all for laughs, didn't you, baby sister? That and your twisted little mama complex, wanting to take care of everything when you're just a baby yourself!"

"I didn't do it for laughs! Ranma needed help! And... and so did I, and so did you and so did Daddy! And Ranma helped us! He did! We helped each other!" Akane was crying freely now.

Ranma moved to put an arm around her, which she angrily shook off.

"And now I'm just back where I started!" she sobbed, her head in her hands. "Right back at the beginning again, _or worse_! Because now I'm not just the girl who gets all the boys at school, I'm a dyke and a liar and a tease! And I worked so hard... so hard to control my temper... and to do right and be good and show my best side to everyone... but everyone just hates me more!!!"

Nabiki snorted. "Bring me my violin. Back when Ranma first arrived, you swore you'd take responsibility for any of her dishonors. You swore that _knowing the truth._"

Akane glared fiercely at her older sister through the gaps between her fingers. "I hate you, Nabiki Tendo. I _hate you!_"

"_You _hate_ me_! That's a laugh! You're a spoiled brat and always have been. I don't think I'll ever know why you sided with this _freak_ against your own flesh and blood, but I don't care. You're dead to me."

"I've always been dead to you! You've never been my sister – just my hentai photographer. You made money off your sister's body! I hope you _DIE!_" Akane dashed off to her room, sobbing the entire way.

"Akane!" Ranma called out – unwisely drawing the middle Tendo daughter's ire.

"And _you_," Nabiki growled, stabbing Ranma with her eyes. "You get out of this house –"

Ranma drew himself up. "I was just leaving. I have to find Ryoga before he does something terrible to himself. He... he needs help."

"Oh, like _we_ needed your help," Nabiki countered, her voice dripping with irony.

"Nabiki, don't," Ranma begged, hanging his head. "Please."

"Are you actually trying to gain sympathy?" she shot back. "You really are something else."

In five minutes, Ranma was packing.

In ten, he had left the house alone.

* * *

"You've faced far worse," Akane said firmly.  
  
Kasumi blinked at the mess surrounding her. "When was that, Akane-chan?" she inquired with a long, drawn-out sigh.  
  
Akane paused in thoughtful consideration. "Welllll... maybe... t-that party you had in junior high..."  
  
The eldest Tendo girl flushed prettily. "Oh my. I didn't know you remembered that."  
  
"I may have been twelve, but it isn't often that your panties are put in the oven and set ablaze."  
  
Kasumi laughed in nervous reminiscence. "I thought Daddy would flood the house!"  
  
There was a sudden and uncomfortable lull in the conversation. Both girls knew what their father's last crying jag had been about.  
  
Unfortunately, that gave them more opportunity to examine The Mess, in all its radiant glory.  
  
Dishes were piled high on the sink, some still with food on them, encrusted – only heaven knew how long it had been sitting there, becoming, rather than a stack of dishes, _one solid mass_. Mold covered the entire business with a filmy hand, making it look as though a miniature, primeval swamp had burbled up from the pipes. The sink was slowly dripping, creating an aquatic paradise for the one-celled critters, especially in the heat of summer, which had only really begun to wane less than a month ago.  
  
Akane hadn't paused to open the cupboards, or (gadzooks!) the refrigerator, but she was certain that they were both filled with food that was infested, spoiled, or, wonder of wonders, both. The floor was not in as bad a shape as the rest of the kitchen; rather, it was just a certainty that no one had taken a mop to it since last winter at least. A thin film of dust lay over the room undisturbed, like a blanket of newly fallen snow.  
  
"Shall we take a look at the rest of the house?" Kasumi offered faintly.  
  
"Ah... no, Kasumi, that's not a good idea." Taking a look at the rest of the house was what had prompted Akane to run to her sister in the first place, bawling and demanding to know if demons were real. "You'd... you'd just get discouraged. Let's start with just the kitchen, okay?"  
  
Kasumi blinked at her, twice, before issuing another heavy sigh. "Perhaps that's for the best."  
  
The youngest Tendo nodded emphatically. "So... how long do you think this will take?"  
  
"Just the kitchen?" Kasumi wondered, tapping her pointer finger against her lips meditatively. "Ano... possibly three weeks, on top of all of my other housework."  
  
"Oh boy." She shook her head ruefully. "I'll work hard, too, Kasumi. We'll see if we can't beat that estimate."  
  
"Akane, dear, if I may say so, you've really taken to Ranma. Isn't that so?"  
  
Akane frowned. "Why would you say that, Kasumi?"  
  
"Well, I'm of the opinion that only a lovestruck girl would ever volunteer for such a task on anybody's say-so," Kasumi volunteered cheerily.  
  
"I didn't really volunteer," Akane grouched, crossing her arms over her chest. "But Ranma made it sound so reasonable at the time. 'Somebody has to stay there, Akane, in case he goes home.'" She snorted. "Never mind that the chances of his finding his way _anywhere_ are slim to none."  
  
"I assume his entire family shares that affliction?"

"That, or they saw a toxic waste dump once and fell in love," Akane commented dryly, glaring at the dust bunnies rolling across the kitchen floor like tumbleweed through a ghost town.

Kasumi looked thoughtful again, as she banged about the kitchen in search of sponges and mops. "Still... I'm not sure his curse will stop him for long, dear. I think that if I were in Ryoga-kun's shoes, home is exactly where I'd want to be. I'd search until I found it."  
  
"Even if you lived here?"   
  
Kasumi frowned as she withdrew the sponges; they'd been chewed on by an army of mice. "Wonderful," she said flatly, with an edge of... could it be sarcasm?[5]  
  
Akane slumped in defeat. "Can we spare some money for cleaning stuff?"  
  
"I know a place we can trade a dime or two and get some rags from cut up bedsheets and old shirts. Besides," she said with a decidedly un-Kasumi-like grin, "we've got some money coming in now anyway, don't we?"  
  
Akane groaned and shifted her weight nervously. Rather than cancel the martial arts classes for which they had already begun advertising, Akane was now simply leading them _all_ – Beginner's and Advanced Anything Goes, and Beginner's Tai Chi. Moreover, she'd taken over Ranma's job as Tofu-sensei's assistant. This was all part of her punishment for lying to her father and her sisters, and thus she was not meant to breathe a word of complaint, despite having scarcely enough time to breathe, much less time for the quasi-optional responsibilities within her life like eating, showering, and doing homework. She knew she'd be chastised if her grades slipped any further than they had since Ranma's arrival, and that Ranma's absence would be seen as wholly to blame...  
  
Akane clamped down rapidly and smoothly on the raging desire to pound something to a pulp. She was getting quite good at that. "Yes, we have some money from the dojo now," she replied through clenched teeth.  
  
"Mm," Kasumi hummed in a tone of quiet but relatively neutral agreement. "Why don't we go to the market and see if we can't arm ourselves... Perhaps see if we can carve you a corner to sleep in, at least." She _tsked_ under her breath; and when she next spoke, her voice was hurried, but with a desperate sense of resolve. "Akane, are you certain about staying here? You'll be ill!"  
  
"It's still warm. I'll camp outside at first. Kasumi, I'm just afraid I'll miss him."  
  
There was another moment of quiet as the eldest and wisest Tendo daughter pondered the state of affairs in her little sister's heart. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Nabiki...?"  
  
"Avoiding Nabiki is just the icing on the cake, sis," Akane admonished with a wry little grin. "This is my responsibility, because it's Ranma's. I swore I would take on all of his responsibilities as if they were my own, back when Ranma first arrived." Her grin widened. " 'His' responsibilities. Man, that sounds so good. It _feels_ so good."  
  
Kasumi placed her hand on Akane's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "Then let's get started on cleaning this up, shall we?"  
  
It was a moment before Akane realized she was referring to the house.

* * *

_Damn it, I knew he was gonna be hard to follow_.  
  
Ranma tossed her red hair over her shoulder impatiently. She had lost Ryoga's trail two days ago, and was scrambling to make up for lost time, which was difficult uphill and in the chilly snap of October. In desperation, she'd overturned her canteen, hoping that her feminine nature would cause her to become stereotypically more careful, observant... or that this body, the body of a girl who'd seen inside Ryoga's chi pattern, essentially his soul, might be able to pick up his signature.   
  
No such luck. Now she was not just cold and tired, she was _wet_ and cold and tired. In fact, it seemed like her luck and been running out on her ever since she'd first lied to the Tendos. _  
  
_Moreover, she couldn't find her dog. This was a lot more puzzling than it might seem. Joi always stuck with her, no matter what. The dog seemed to like her more when she was cursed, if anything; as Akane had so bluntly pointed out, Joi tended to dislike men on general principle. But now the small neurotic wonder was nowhere to be found.   
  
Although, come to think of it, Joi had been showing up less and less recently.  
  
_Say it. Ever since you lied to the Tendos..._  
  
But that was even stupider than the lame-ass thought about karma. The dog couldn't have possibly _known _that she'd been lying to anyone, much less known that she'd been lying to people it liked. Still, as if being found out were the final insult, the dog hadn't shown its canine face since Ranma had departed from the Tendo household. Come to think of it, Joi might be with them. Could still be with Tofu-sensei. Could be anywhere, really...  
  
_Damn it. Damn it to hell._  
  
It wasn't like the stupid mutt mattered to her. Let him go off and desert her in her hour of need. Who the hell gave a –  
  
A sudden rustle in the underbrush behind her caused Ranma to go still. Abruptly, she was glad she was a girl. Her guy form was stronger, but her girl form was faster; and if there were actually some kind of dangerous wild animal behind her, her girl body would certainly stand her in better stead. She waited, her entire body tense, not trusting herself to move in the underbrush. The leaves had begun to fall, and it hadn't rained for several days, creating a loudly crackling groundcover.  
  
Adrenaline began to run through her. Perhaps it wasn't a normal beast at all, but one of those Clatha creatures. Who knew how many of them were in existence? She would have asked Ryoga where he'd stumbled across the monster, but the truth was that the Lost Boy probably didn't know, himself.  
  
The rustling noises grew close enough for Ranma to determine that whatever was approaching her was very large... _just a bear, Ranma_, she told herself. _It's a bear...  
_  
Kuno Tatewaki poked his head through the leaves of a sassafras tree, and blinked at her in surprise.  
  
Needless to say, her surprise significantly outweighed his. "What are you doing here?!" she demanded shrilly.  
  
"Why, looking for you, of course," he replied in that few-bricks-shy-of-a-load way that he had, stepping closer, his eyes innocently examining her for hurts. "Are you well?"  
  
"Am I... what?!"  
  
"Well. Have you been eating, are you practicing your art, or have you gone quite mad with grief?" His eyes gazed into hers a little too deeply for her liking, but in a way that made her stare challengingly back.  
  
"I'm looking for Ryoga," she managed, her voice sounding defensive.  
  
"Hey! Ow..."  
  
Ranma's head snapped up at the sound of the second new voice. "No... it... can't be..."  
  
"Grr, go _slower_, sempai..." and Hikaru Gosunkugi emerged from the brush several meters away.  
  
"No way!" Ranma swore softly.  
  
Hikaru's eyes widened in happy surprise when he saw her. "You found her!" He jogged up to the pair, then paused. "It _is_ 'her', right?"  
  
Ranma wondered how on earth she was going to explain this. "Uh..."  
  
"That is neither here nor there," Kuno cut in calmly. "What matters is that Ranma is after this Ryoga person. Why is that?"  
  
Ranma and Hikaru both stared at Kuno for a moment. Finding Ryoga was more important than her original gender?  
  
_Well, maybe it is, at that._ Briefly, Ranma explained about Ryoga's wound, and about the terrible consequences that Shampoo had described. Finally, deeming it more than necessary after they'd followed her five days out of Tokyo, she attempted to explain her responsibility to Ryoga, or her connection to him. Words seemed to fail her.  
  
"You are accountable," Kuno finally broke in, taking pity on her as she stumbled through her third attempt at explanation.   
  
"Yes, all right. Accountable."  
  
"Speaking of obligations, I was charged with delivering this directly to your person." Kuno reached inside his jacket and withdrew a small rectangle of folded paper, a letter sealed with a daub of wax. It looked so old-fashioned that it seemed that it should belong to Kuno and not to her.  
  
Ranma accepted it automatically, turning it over meditatively in her hands before breaking the seal with a decisive tug of her fingers. She scanned the missive for a moment before her lips began to twitch into a smile, finally a grin. Then her face fell, her brows furrowing. Finally she took a deep breath and folded the letter again, tucking it in her own pack. She turned a strained smile to Kuno.  
  
"I wonder what could make my Lady's face go through such contortions," he offered.  
  
She suppressed a giggle while Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Well... Tofu-sensei says he's found a possible cure. Or, rather, that he knows where to find one. That's great news. But, damn it, if the idiot hadn't run away, I'd be setting out to get my hands on it right now! Instead, I have to hunt him down first." She examined the grass springing up around her shoes. "I'm worried that, by the time I _do_ find him and get the cure, it may be too late. Shampoo said that Ryoga will go crazy before he dies, violent-crazy. I just hope he's in the mood to receive me when I _do_ find him."  
  
She was silent for a long moment, Kuno and Hikaru watching her carefully.  
  
"Well!" the redhead announced, drawing herself to her feet and dusting her pants off with exaggerated care, "there's no use in moping around! I'm going to go see if I can catch myself a Lost Boy."  
  
"Certainly," Kuno replied. "Lead the way."  
  
Hikaru nodded. "All right. Let's go."  
  
"You aren't coming," Ranma informed them. "I mean... you don't _want_ to go. Why are you here anyway? It isn't to deliver a letter, that's for sure."  
  
Kuno blinked. "Why, I swore to serve you, my Lady. How in the name of all the heavens could I do that, if you were in the woods on a quest, whilst I was in Tokyo studying English Lit?"  
  
Ranma was still deciding which part of that sentence to attack first, when Hikaru spoke up.  
  
"You promised you'd teach me martial arts if I stopped taking pictures of you and your fiancée, Ranma. Do you think I'd let you get away with reneging on your part of the deal? I may be many things, but a pushover I am not."  
  
"No," Ranma agreed, thinking of his acerbic attitude when they'd first met. However, she also found herself looking him over physically, viewing him as a potential ally. The dark circles beneath his eyes had all but disappeared, and he seemed to have a little more meat on his bones. Come to think of it, she doubted whether anyone who'd known Hikaru during the summer would recognize him at first glance.  
  
Moreover, his gaze was cheerful and intelligent, which was more valuable to her than any sculpted physique might be. Much as she hated to admit it, Hikaru's mind was quicker and cleverer than hers, and he might be able to catch some signs of Ryoga's passage that she might have missed.  
  
She turned her azure gaze to Kuno, giving him a far more critical eye than Hikaru. He was nuts, just a little; and yet he was a top-grade martial artist, one who might become almost as good as she and Akane were, with a little training. Moreover, he was truly devoted to her.  
  
Suddenly it came to her that she was using them, using them like she'd used the Tendos. She only wanted to find the stupid Lost Boy to assuage her own guilt, not from any true sense of honorable purpose, and she was considering the two boys before her like they were tools, weapons in her arsenal. They weren't pawns, they were people. _Man, I can see where Pops went wrong. It's a damned_ habit_ after while, ain't it?  
_  
"Listen, boys, I really appreciate that you've come out to help me and all, but this is seriously dangerous. Ryoga could pound either one of you – hell, both of you at once – in the blink of an eye. There could be more of those beasties that hurt him in the first place. And neither of you are made for long hikes, to be perfectly frank. So I'm going to have to ask you two to turn around and head back for Tokyo, where it's safe. Look, if I had either of your deaths on my conscience, I don't know what I'd do."  
  
To her surprise, the two teenagers exchanged a knowing glance, as though they'd both expected this speech, and rehearsed their answers to it.  
  
"You're _not_ cheating me out of my Anything-Goes lessons," Hikaru stated flatly.  
  
"And nothing shall make me abandon you. Were you yourself to beat me senseless, I would still return to you until you relented. My offer of service was not optional. It was my decision to make – mine and mine alone. How I spend my life is none of your business, Saotome Ranma."  
  
_Life?!_ A sudden, uncomfortable picture entered Ranma's mind – that of a doddering old Tatewaki Kuno scrambling around to fetch her drinks or fluff her pillows. Her almost-giggle died in her lips as she thought carefully over his words. Something in his last, almost defensive demand struck her as oddly imploring. _  
_  
"If it's your will to be here, I won't try to manipulate you into going anyplace else." She sighed. Now _she_ felt like the one being jerked around like a puppet on a string. With a small, almost pleasant feeling of surprise, she realized that they'd known just what to say so they could stick by her.  
  
"How'd you make it up here anyway?" Ranma inquired, sniffling. _Allergies_, she thought absently.  
  
Hikaru jerked his thumb over his shoulder and down through the brush. "Your dog, what's-his-face," he replied with a grin, "hung around Nerima until we decided to pack up and follow. Didn't take us that long, to be honest, but you're a hard girl to catch up with."  
  
Ranma's exclamation of surprise died in her throat. She coughed to cover what might have been a sob. "Joi?" she inquired in a surprisingly steady voice.  
  
Kuno nodded. "Despite being small, he is a very faithful animal. He led us true."  
  
"JOI!" Ranma called out, finding her voice, "COME!"  
  
Hikaru and Tatewaki turned to the path down through the valley.  
  
But no small dog came. Not really any dog for that matter. Much as Ranma stared, and waited, and called and whistled, there was no movement through the brush.  
  
"He was behind us!" Hikaru said, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I could have sworn..."  
  
And as if that was it, the final straw, the last emotional experience she could keep caged, Ranma finally began to cry, in big, racking sobs.

* * *

Somewhere along the western coast of Japan, a short, buxom redhead clothed in dark slippers, loose, black pants, and a loose grey shirt with a Chinese collar cried in the light of day for the first time. There had been another day a long time ago: a hole, several starving felines, a father half-crazed by the idea of a famous, martial-artist son, but that had been in childhood.  
  
In that same place, a tall, finely muscled young man pulled out his canteen and a small handkerchief. He solemnly unscrewed the cap of the canteen and drizzled cool water onto the cloth in his hands, wringing it slightly before pressing it gently against the back of the redhead's neck, kneeling beside her and speaking softly.  
  
Another young man, smaller, cleverer, quicker, paused in confusion, then wandered off on the pretext of hunting for camping grounds.  
  
Elsewhere, a girl dressed as a boy began to thoughtfully place several items in a small pack: breast-bindings, rations, a thin, flexible cloth that could be stretched taut over tree branches to form a tent. She had trained against the very sea, and emerged if not victorious, then unharmed and untired. Her need for revenge held her standing tall when the rest of her life's doors had closed behind her. She was ready.  
  
Deep in the heart of the Bayankala range, an elderly woman pondered the fate of her newest apprentice as well as her great-granddaughter with apparent good humor – but also with a secret, slow-knawing despair.  
  
And there was one more boy, Lost, who wandered only for the sake of being alone. There was a singular and all-encompassing goal in his mind. He wanted to get as far away from the buxom redhead as possible. Once he was far enough away so that he felt safe, he would sit and think for a long time, alone. Once he'd done that, he'd decide what to do next. It was a mind-numbingly simple plan, but it had one flaw.  
  
The dog refused to leave him.

* * *

END BOOK ONE: TENDO-SAOTOME ANYTHING GOES

* * *

Whoooooooo....  
  
Please take a moment if you have one to let me know what you think of this chapter. :) I appreciate reviews that are specific (and by specific I mean reviews that include aspects of the story that you liked or disliked). Flames wilt the flowers.  
  
The next installment of this story will be under the name JUKETSUZOKU-FU. So for those of you interested in what will happen with Ryoga, what the heck is up with the dog, and what the cure is, that's where the next bit will be. I have a lot of it written out already. However, I made the mistake of posting chapters of _this_ story before I was finished with the entire thing. _Never again. _There were always things that I wished I could go back and change.  
  
Thus, I do expect to wait awhile before starting that up. I always said I would never leave a story unfinished, but I consider this arc to be DONE. Thus, it may be a year or more before Juketsuzoku-Fu is posted.   
  
Thank you for your time, your attention, your reviews. Keep reading. Keep writing! Thanks to Rumiko Takahashi, who created this wonderful universe that I love playing in. Thanks to Mama-chan, who did a lot of beta-reading for this story, and whose ideas are the main inspiration for this tale. Thanks to MS Word, without which I would not be able to write half this much in twice this length of time. Thanks to everyone at the Marietta Y, for listening to many pages of this story while on their exercise bikes, treadmills, etc.   
  
Review, review, review! :)  
  
-Kirinin

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[1] The Bridge starts in a prone position. Then, both feet are placed flat on the ground. (In Ryoga's case, one foot is _in_ the ground.) Finally, both hands support the body's weight by being placed flat on the ground as well, fingers pointing upwards compared to the plane of the body. The back is then thrust upward and arched. (In Ryoga's case, he started standing, then fell back, having to support himself with his hands because he could not move his feet.)  
...  
Can you see why I didn't put this in the text? ;)

[2] I have no idea whether Japan really has J.C. Penney's. Perhaps not. But suspend your disbelief. :)

[3] Totally stolen from elsewhere. Don't remember which fic; but if anyone knows or recognizes the line, let me know and I'll give proper credit.

[4] Insert lemon scene here. (insert evil laugh, here.)

[5] Naw. 'Course not. This is Kasumi, after all.


End file.
